Audrey Potter's Prelude
by sphinxs-legend
Summary: A series of one-shots from the moments we don't get to see of Audrey Potter in her story: Green Eyed Monster.
1. December 25th, 1992

December 25th, Second Year

If first year had taught me anything, it was that Christmas at Hogwarts was beautiful. It was beautiful most of the time, but with its decorations and the merriment that seemed to dissolve rivalries and ease even we of the most violent minds, Christmas was the most beautiful of all days. This year was no exception, of course. In fact it looked even more beautiful. Maybe it was because there were fewer people here for the holidays this year, so the feast looked bigger by comparison. Maybe the decorations were a little bit more extravagant, because I had gotten to help with them during a few of my detentions. Maybe they were more extravagant because the teachers were trying to give some semblance of calm while some muggle-hating attacker was out petrifying victims in the middle of the corridors...

It was probably that last one.

The castle, as beautiful as it was, still had an air of fear that you couldn't help but feel no matter what room you walked into. You couldn't help but hear it while students whispered to each other in alcoves and corridors, while they scurried nervously from room to room, hoping not to be caught alone or off-guard.

Then again, there were some things you couldn't scurry away from – no matter how close to your common room or dorm room you were. For example, you couldn't run away from your best friend. This I had found out the past few weeks after the newest gossip – which was sadly completely true – that Draco Malfoy _fancied _me.

"But you don't even like him a little bit?" Daphne asked me again. Her scowl pulled at her face so much I was surprised that her face hadn't stuck itself like that...particularly since she'd pretty much held it there for the entirety of the day. "Draco Malfoy's good company, Audrey. If he likes you, you should take him up on the invitation to be his girlfriend."

"Except that I don't like him," I stated with my nose wrinkled. Theodore walked lazily beside us. He seemed nearly as annoyed with her persistence as I was. "Draco Malfoy is a cruel, spoiled brat – even if he does have nice hair."

"He does have nice hair, doesn't he?" Daphne sighed dreamily. I couldn't help but look at her with a dark expression – first she was trying to convince me that I liked him and now she was fawning over how much she liked him? This girl needed to make up her mind. Theodore, who had moved away from her to be on my other side, looked about ready to gag at her reaction.

"Even if he does," I continued with a pointed look to both of them – even Theo had tried convincing me that maybe I should just 'give into my feelings', which everyone had yet to understand didn't exist. "It's not enough to replace his terrible personality."

"I guess you're right," Daphne sighed. "I just think it's about time for you to find yourself a well-thought-of, and close-to-pureblooded boy-"

"_You _don't have any of those things," I pointed out with a glare.

"Well, at least I've kissed one. And don't you start! Flint is a _very _good kisser," she began defensively, seeing how Theodore and I were ready to jump on the topic. I couldn't help but let out a loud laugh.

"Flint is not a boy," I said once I had calmed down. I ignored how offended she looked, the most offensive part of this conversation was that it started from her not letting up about Malfoy and ended with the traumatic memory of Daphne Greengrass and Marcus Flint sucking face.

"Audrey's right, Flint is unsanitary."

"If you happen to mean that you only kissed his _teeth_ – did they cut you? It's like he's a vampire that got his teeth knocked about. They point every which way, so I worry you may have tetanus or rabies or-"

"Enough," she crossed her arms over her chest. "Let's make a deal: if you stop talking about Flint like that, I'll stop pushing you towards Draco. Though for the record, I'm only doing that for your own good."

I thought about that deal for a long moment, thinking about what life would be like if I didn't have to hear about how perfect Malfoy and I would be every day. What would life be like if I wouldn't have bruised ribs from her nudging them every time Malfoy flirted with me? What would life be like if I could actually insult him without being berated and losing a friend for a meal? That was definitely worth a shiny sickle...but then again... "No deal."

"No deal?" Theodore asked with wide eyes; clearly he had gone through the same mental checklist of benefits that I had.

"Why, is it that you secretly _like _me pushing you towards Draco?" Daphne smiled. "I knew it! If you would just admit that you two are perfect for each other, you could be that couple that marries right out of school! It would be so romantic..."

"I'm not going to take the deal because I can always say no to Malfoy," I gritted my teeth at the idea, but raised my eyebrows tauntingly. "But you'll always be the idiot that kissed Flingivitus!"

Daphne frowned even more, taking a deep breath and turning on her heel away from us. "You know, the feast is still going on and I feel like I want to talk to Pansy and Millicent. Millicent's older sister is graduating this summer and she's having a ball that's just been announced. Pureblood's only. So _almost _the _entirety _of Slytherin is going, isn't that right, Theodore?" She gave me a pointed glare that I returned darkly – yes, Daphne loved pointing out that I was not pureblooded. "Theodore, are you coming?"

She didn't wait for his answer before she stomped off towards the Great Hall again. I rolled my eyes and thought better than to watch her go. I didn't want to give her the false sense of security that she'd actually wounded me if she dared to look back over her shoulder. Turning to Theo, who looked almost as annoyed as I felt, I waved him off.

"Go ahead and join her."

"You sure?" he asked with a frown. "I'd really rather stay with you, she shouldn't have said that to you."

"It's nothing I haven't heard before, she always talks too harshly when she's angry," I shrugged with a sigh. "And I'm just going to go find Harry. I want to thank him for the book from today. If you see him in there, tell him I'm headed t'ward Gryffindor tower to look for him."

My brother had given me a book on common natural herbs and potions for simple ailments this morning. He'd even left me with a note that the book had a specific chapter with tons of solutions for headaches. My headaches had gotten a lot worse this year and they would continue into vivid migraines up to three times a week. The migraines would last all through the night, with nightmares that made me wake up in a cold sweat even though I could never remember what had happened in them.

The walk to the seventh floor was terrible. As many people that were in the Great Hall for the feast, I still tended to run into all the groups that hung out in the halls and thought I was a monster. Considering all the attacks on muggleborns this year and my brother's ability to speak to snakes, everyone had taken to avoiding us in the halls. At first it had just been about him thanks to the little episode with Justin in dueling club – and I had been fine with ducking in the background during that. But people started to point fingers towards me once they started putting two and two together...or maybe four and four. All the evidence _did _kind of point to me; I mean if you considered that I was a Slytherin, that I somehow had a bad feeling that let me know pre-emptively about the first petrified victim, the completely true rumours about my speechless spells, or the completely false rumours about me being betrothed to Draco Malfoy...how could someone not think I was the Heir of Slytherin?

A group of third year Ravenclaws whispered and threw glares at me. I sent them one back that made them look away nervously. I guess there was one good thing about the rumours: people were too scared to ogle my scar this year.

When I finally got to Gryffindor tower, I was not in the best of moods. Besides the fact that the fat lady would not let me in without the password – she and I would never get along – my brother was nowhere to be seen, but I had found a splitting headache which had begun behind my short, chopped, red bangs.

Seamus Finnegan let me in when he saw me arguing with the infuriating portrait and as always he took the time to flirt with me. He had been doing this all year and while I tried to do it back, I knew that it was not nearly as smooth as him. I probably just made a fool of myself; I was no good at flirting.

"He and Ron aren't up there. Sorry, Audrey," Seamus had even gone up to check the boys dormitories for me as well, but it seemed like I wouldn't be able to talk to my brother tonight. As it was I wanted to proclaim it a lost cause and get back down to my dormitory and that new book of headache remedies as quickly as I could.

"That's alright," I smiled slightly at him, trying to distract myself from the growing ache behind my temples. "He's probably out breaking some rule or other."

"He tends to do that," he smiled back. Seamus had a very cute smile – mischievous, like Fred and George. But in the back of my mind I could always see him blowing up something or other and it made his whole demeanor somewhat more innocent. "Are you headed back to Slytherin, then?"

"Probably," I sighed, not enjoying the idea of who I may run into on the long way down to the dungeons. "Harry gave me a book I want to read with simple cures for common ailments."

He frowned empathetically. "Headache?"

"As always," I frowned, pushing my hand up to my forehead. Seamus' eyes flitted up there, as if he was looking for a scar there. When he couldn't find one beneath my fingers, his eyes slid down to the marking my neck...my cheeks burned while I turned away from him and toward the portrait hole. "Well Seamus, I'll see you tomorrow, alright?"

"Yeah, come sit with us at the Gryffindor table for breakfast!" I frowned a bit.

"I think I'll stick with the Slytherins. You Gryffindors aren't quite happy with us right now and just because you and my brother's friends are slightly more understanding doesn't really mean that the rest of your house is as sympathetic. Thanks though," I told him quickly, trying to make my way out of Gryffindor tower with as little conversation now as possible. The more awkward this conversation got, the worse the distraction it was for my headache. I needed something to remedy it before it turned into a bloody migraine.

Moving down from the seventh floor and down to the dungeons, I tried ignoring all the people who stopped to glare and whisper as I walked by. I didn't care who did or didn't think that I was Slytherin's Heir. I was not in the mood to defend myself or give them any thought. A few times in the past I'd been berated by Snape after he'd found out I'd threatened some students after they gave me a hard time. Really, they made it too easy for me: they were rude and all I had to say is "_I'll open it!_" before they'd run away scared and leave me alone. Who _wouldn't _take advantage of that?

Three detentions later and I was exactly where I'd left off before Snape had tried to punish the genius out of me. I was almost relieved to escape the hissing of the gossipers and get down to the safety of the dungeons. Not that I liked being under the Black Lake, or that it was really anymore safe than the corridors with the likes of Crabbe and Goyle here in the vicinity. Even though they were currently following Malfoy – who sadly was a decent wizard – they were still a danger to everyone around them by their bulk and stupidity.

I was out of breath when I made it to the wall covering the entrance to the Slytherin common rooms – going up to the seventh floor from the first floor and then back down to the dungeons was quite a work out. It amazed me that those two oafs could be so fat considering how many stairs we had to climb each day. They must eat twice their weight a day in sweets to keep that girth.

"Pureblood," Malfoy said to the stone wall which groaned as it slid open. The portrait that happened to be placed on it – but not to be confused with our opening – gave a slight hiss at being woken up.

"Too many sweets make you tired, Augustin," I informed the portrait, who scoffed at me and patted his overstuffed belly while I passed in front of Malfoy.

"Oi, Potter!" Malfoy shouted as I passed him. I closed my eyes, his voice had reverberated in my mind a little too painfully for me to be able to be patient enough not to hex him. I turned back to look at him and Crabbe and Goyle with a frown – both of his goons looked even more nervous and oblivious than normal when I did it.

"Can I help you?"

"Depends, you considered being my girlfriend yet?" Ah, the dreaded question that I've already answered eight times.

"I never gave it any consideration at all," I said simply, watching as the three stepped into the common room to have the wall groan to a close behind them. "Why do you want me as your girlfriend anyway? Puginson had a point: I'm a halfblood."

He grabbed my arm to stop me from walking and talking. Goyle looked like he was going to say something but closed his mouth when Crabbe nudged him in the ribs. I wonder if he would have tried giving me a talking to? I'd like to hear that – a talking to from Gregory Goyle; would it just be a list of his favourite foods? I looked at Malfoy carefully, fingering at the wand in my robe pocket.

"What are you going to do, jinx me?" Malfoy asked, looking at the wand as it slipped into my fingers. "I'm not stupid, Potter, I've noticed that you don't say spells. It means your _better _than a halfblood. It means that you're more pure than half the idiots here."

"Well, that was obvious," I smiled thoughtfully – and admittedly somewhat cruelly – while I thought about how much better I was than idiots like Crabbe and Goyle or Parkinson and Bullstrode. Malfoy smirked a bit himself, probably thinking along the same lines. It was almost bordering a smile – but it was something I knew I wouldn't see. No one would. Malfoy didn't smile. Ever. I doubt he knew how.

"I've seen what you do when no one's looking; you can do magic halfbloods and mudbloods can't. It makes you strong. And better. And that means that I can be with you."

"'Can be with me'?" I repeated, my face slowly growing red thanks to anger and the throbbing behind my skull. "As in now you can lower your standards enough?"

"No, closer to-"

"Because I know 'mudbloods' that are stronger and better and more worth my time than you," I hissed back to him, yanking my arm away and turning around, only to swivel in a complete circle to face him again. "Oh and if you ever call one of my friends a mudblood again, I'll beat up in the most embarrassing way I can think of: the _muggle _way."

He didn't try to stop me when I turned and headed toward my dormitory. My kneazle, Circe, came looked up from my pillow when I walked into my dormitory and went looking through the pile of gifts at the end of my bed for the new book on ailments. Now my brain was hammering against my skull, I was surprised that blood wasn't pouring from my ears. I tried reading the pages in the dim light of my empty dormitory, but my vision was starting to blur from the pain. It was excruciating and after a long moment of staring at the page my vision cleared enough to see that moonstone seemed to be the main ingredient for headaches and migraines. It looked like the powdered form was good if you planned on staying awake and continually ingesting it, but if you wanted to sleep you should sleep with a moonstone under your pillow: the clearer the rock you could get, the more effective it would be.

Circe licked at my temple, she could probably sense the pain rolling off me in waves.

"Alright, I don't have clear moonstone," I sighed to her. "Time for another visit to Snape, then?"

Circe mewed at me again with another lick to my temple. I guess I'd have to do more adventuring, though I'd done way more than I should have done in one day. Snape was not happy with the many visits I'd been making lately to his office, either. Besides the detentions from the whole 'flying car incident', as well as the threats and detentions due to the whole 'Heir of Slytherin' thing, I'd been gathering ingredients and trying to make new potions. In November I'd been able to get my hand on a fifth year textbook thanks to Bole wanting a reason for not having to do one of his potion tests. Snape had been all for the idea of me practicing and refining my art, but he did not like that I was out and about at night what with all of the attacks.

"You stay here," I told her. "Malfoy's in the common room and I don't want him making you act all stupid again."

She let out a bit of a growl at me but curled up on my pillow, her amber eyes watching me. I didn't want her to go and start being friendly to Malfoy again – the point of a kneazle was to protect you from people who could be a danger, or hate the people you hated, or like the people you like...that Circe was broken and happened to get along with Draco Malfoy was incriminating. I smiled at her lightly before scratching behind her ear and headed out the door.

I had planned to walk straight past Malfoy and his goons, I really did, but their conversation was something that just couldn't be ignored.

"Saint Potter, the Mudblood's friend," Malfoy was hissing to them – and not very quietly. Apparently he didn't mind who heard. "He's another one with no proper wizard feeling, or he wouldn't go around with that jumped up Granger Mudblood. And his sister? Sly as a fox, but definitely not Slytherin's Heir like everyone thinks...I wish I knew who it is. I could help them."

"You'd love that, wouldn't you?" I turned to him, my headache screaming in my head for me to back away and find the moonstone. "Are you really on this again? You need new conversation topics."

"So you don't know who's behind it all?" Crabbe asked, looking confused in a way that he never had before...and when I say that, I mean he actually looked like he was _trying _to understand. This was new. I looked at him with narrowed eyes.

"Of course he doesn't," I scoffed. " Daddy doesn't even think he's important enough to know about the last time," I said with a dark smirk. Mafloy glared at me.

"He says that it was all kept quiet and it'll look suspicious if I know too much about it," he argued. I rolled my eyes, what a load of crock. "But I know one thing – last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Mudblood died. So I bet it's a matter of time before one of them's killed this time...as for me, I hope it's Granger."

"Ugh!" I yelled, half from the pressure in my head that scraped at my skull and the other half out of frustration. "What is wrong with you, Malfoy? You know why people think you're vile? Because you're _actually _vile. You're actually a disgusting load of self-righteous bitchery who has no reason to feel as entitled as he is. Your name is just a name and your money can be stolen...as for me, I hope it is."

"You just wish you knew everything I did, have the resources I do...and you could," he raised his eyebrows. "My offer still stands."

I hissed at the idea of it, pushing against my headache. He actually looked concerned for a moment, probably knowing like everyone else that my headaches were legend.

"So if you know everything...d'you know if the person who opened the Chamber last time was caught?" Goyle was thinking and analyzing too? Did Dumbledore slip potion in the pumpkin juice?

"Oh, yeah, whoever it was was expelled." Malfoy waved off. "They're probably still in Azkaban."

"Azkaban?" Goyle asked curiously.

"Are you _really _that thick?" I asked him, looking at him with a frown.

"Azkaban – the wizarding prison, Goyle," Malfoy seemed to agree with me by the look of annoyance on his face. "Honestly, if you were any slower, you'd be going backward."

"If he was any more dull, he'd be grey." I agreed, Malfoy laughed darkly at his friend's expense. "Admittedly I don't care to know who it is – I just don't want to get caught up in the middle of it."

"Father says to keep my head down and let the Heir of Slytherin get on with it," he agreed. Though he didn't seem quite as into the idea of keeping out of the mess as I did. "He says the school needs ridding of all the Mudblood filth, but not to get mixed up in it. Of course, he's got a lot on his plate at the moment. You know the Ministry of Magic raided our manor last week?"

I frowned at him. "Good. Hopefully the Ministry got rid of the Pureblood filth, too."

"They didn't find much," Malfoy continued smugly. "Father's got some very valuable Dark Arts stuff, you know. Very important, very rare, very _expensive_. But luckily, we've got our own secret chamber under the drawing-room floor-"

"How wonderful for you," I frowned, closing my right eye as my head gave a particularly sharp pain. "Under my floor I have dirt – I guess it's worth the same as what your family has. I hope you all get locked up."

"If I left, you'd be miserable," he pointed out, pulling me toward him by the sleeve of my robe. "And as soon as you admit you fancy me too, we can stop all this fighting. It's fun, but it's old. I'll even stop calling Granger a mudblood."

"No you won't."

"No I won't," he shrugged. "But I'd stop when you're around. It'd be like not swearing in front of a lady; I was taught manners."

"You were?" I asked doubtfully. "I've yet to see proof of it."

"I've been taught manners, dancing, even wooing-" he pulled me a bit closer to him again. "Want to see proof of _that_?"

My headache was killing me and Malfoy was now far too close for comfort. I closed my eyes against it all, forcing myself to focus. I knew I needed to open my eyes – I knew if I took my eyes of Malfoy for even a moment he would do something stupid. I placed my hands on his chest and pushed him away from me. It lead to him grabbing my wrists.

"Go away."

"I'd be nice to your little mudblood for you. Come on, Potter. I can be very nice if I want to be."

"I don't want to be with you and if you don't let go of me right now, you won't have the ability to be with anyone within the next ten years..." I hissed, trying to wrestle my wrists from his hold again. I felt like I needed to grab hold of my head, I felt like I needed to get away from him – he was too close, I was too warm, I was too nervous.

But Malfoy didn't listen to me. Instead, Malfoy leaned in toward me, trying to come at me with his lips almost puckered – bloody hell, was he trying to _kiss m_e?

My scrambled, throbbing brain kicked into overdrive and instinctively pushed him away from me. As he got his bearings I took a step forward and then – doing something I'd only seen in some of Dudley's favourite movies – I pulled back my right leg and kicked it up until he screamed.

It was such a scream that I knew it wasn't supposed to come out of a boys mouth. It bled pain and agony, but I felt nothing better than when I saw him drop to the floor. It even made my headache back off a bit for the moment of satisfaction.

"Don't call her a mudblood," I growled at him, watching as his face blanched. "And don't you _ever _try to kiss me again!"

Crabbe and Goyle looked in a mix of shock and trying to hold back laughter. I shot them both a glare that only made them look more ready to laugh before I stomped out of the common room. I had a moonstone to find – I could beat them up later. The further into the dungeons I walked, the worse my migraine got again. I was nearly stumbling by the time I knocked on the door to Snape's office.

When he opened it, he barely seemed surprised. "Headache?"

"That everyone's come to expect it is sad," I groaned, pushing into the room when he moved to let me in. He conjured up a chair to sit across from the one behind his desk, I fell into it.

"Potter, what have I told you about being out at night? There have been three attacks on people that were out past dinner-"

"Mrs Norris is not a person," I argued. "And I know, but I needed to ask for something for..." I groaned, placing both hands on my skull again. "Do you have any moonstone?"

"Powdered moonstone will not last you through the night," he informed me, looking at me closely as if he could assess me just by whatever my face looked like. It was probably an ugly sight – glazed green eyes, messy red hair, and blanched skin with a pained pink to my cheeks. "But if you need a full moonstone-"

"You _knew _this could be a remedy and you never thought to mention it?" I frowned at him. "Next time can you try to read my mind and tell me, please? Do you have any clear ones?"

"No moonstone is perfectly clear," he said thoughtfully, going towards his storage to look through his moonstones. "They all have a level of fog, the impurities in a moonstone stem back to where they're found and when they're harvested. Why is that?"

"Because the moon is never actually gone," I quoted, closing my eyes as he rifled. "The white moonstones represent the full moon and the clearest ones represent the dark side of the moon that we don't see during the new moon."

"Very good," I heard him say, hearing his steps echo through the back of my mind as he walked back to me. Opening my eyes I saw that he was holding out a very clear moonstone – it barely had any fog to it save for the streak of white fog right through the right side. It was perfect. I grabbed it from him without word, shoving it against my forehead.

Immediately, it began a tingle in the tips of my fingers and the bottom of my feet. I took a deep breath while I felt the tingles work through my system, calming down the tension from my muscles and working toward the throbbing beneath my skin.

"Helping?"

"Yes," I sighed in relief.

"Interesting. So you know, moonstones tend to best help magically related migraines more than average headache pains. With the amount of relief you seem to feel from them, it seems to point to the fact this may not just be a simple headache."

"I don't care as long as it can be cured," I sighed.

"Well," he continued. "After the holidays I would like to try some tests. It may be a simple solution that you haven't yet thought of. Does that interest you?"

"Very," I sighed, feeling much better though there was still a muffled drum beating in the back of my brain. At least now I couldn't tell you what song it was playing.

"Good, now get back to the common room. I told you, students should not be out this late. It's not safe."

Especially you, I could basically hear and see it in the sentence. I waved him off, glad to be feeling like my snarky self again as I walked toward his office door. "Merlin, sometimes it's surprising you're not a father. So protective..."

He scowled at me, a black scowl that made my face clear nervously. It seemed as though children may be a sore subject for professor Snape.

"Alright, alright, I'm going. Goodnight, professor. Thank you."

He did nothing else but nod and send me on my way. I walked through the dungeons quickly, ready to get some sleep and make this migraine go away for good. I was glad there was no one in the halls to gossip as I walked past or try to start any trouble. It was nice to walk in solitude and examine the moonstone...it really was quite clear. I put it up to the lights flickering from the brackets on the wall.

_Something is wrong._

As the thought entered my mind – no, _pushed _itself into my mind, a shiver ran down the length of my spine as if cold water was dripping down my neck. The lights around me seemed to burn with such a ferocity that it charred the back of my retinas. The charring was a slow burn that seeped through me, causing goosebumps and shivers and red flags to raise in my head.

_Something is wrong._

I pushed my palms deeply into my eye sockets, ignoring the voice in the back of my mind. What was wrong was the fact that my bloody retinas were burning.

_Something is wrong._

What the bloody hell is this?

Why would everything burn and hurt and be ice cold...and what would let that happen all at once? It was overwhelming my senses and making me feel ill again. I groaned loudly, complaining to the empty halls. There was no one around to hear it. Somewhere between my temple and my forehead gave a painful stab of pain, causing me to open my eyes in shock and look down at the floor where the moonstone lay uselessly. I had dropped it.

I bent down to get it, pushing it against my forehead and waiting for the relief to come again. But the headache didn't cease. Instead, the headache continued to burst through toward the clear rock as if it were fighting against the cure. I almost screamed in horror and pain; why wasn't it working? could I have cracked it when it dropped? would cracking it take away its ability to heal me?

I placed it back up to the light of the corridor, looking through it to see if it was still clear and not clouded by a dark crack through the middle of it. Through the glass-like moonstone I could see a distorted version of stone and bracketed flames licking up the wall. It was still as clear as normal.

So why wasn't it working?

Something dragged itself on the ground to my side. It was a sound that I had heard before, when I had dragged Pansy Parkinson under her bed when she had been stunned and when I had seen a sixth year transfigured into a slug...but that sound didn't make sense in the middle of the night with no one in the dungeon. I swiveled toward it, the moonstone still stuck to my face, only to see giant, yellow, snake eyes.

I froze, petrified, unable to move out of pure terror that sank itself into my bloodstream and froze like liquid nitrogen.

_Basilisk._

* * *

**Based off of my story **_Green Eyed Monster_**.**

**This was edited by **_Angel of the Night Watchers. _**I do not own the Harry Potter universe or it's characters. I do own Audrey Potter, her ridiculously vivid potion-making skills, and her wicked nicknames and insults. **

**Enjoy the flashbacks and ****please review**** :)**


	2. September 1st, 1991

September 1st, First Year

"It can't be true," Draco said to Crabbe, who walked behind him with heavy steps. Goyle looked just as skeptical as Crabbe did. "Which compartment did he say?"

"The kid with the toad said this one down here," Crabbe pointed to a compartment off to the left side.

Draco took the time to look briefly in the window, examining the people inside. There were three of them; two redheads and a black haired boy. The black haired boy seemed to be very interested in whatever it was the other boy, a ginger, was saying to him. The black haired kid was leaning forward, his glasses almost sliding off his nose. The ginger was using large hand movements, explaining something or other to the two across from him. The girl in the compartment - the only girl in the compartment - had darker red hair and was...she was...was she _petting _a frog?

"Are you sure it's this compartment?" Draco asked, turning to Crabbe. He didn't understand why there would be three people behaving so strangely in a compartment if they were apparently so important. Weren't famous people supposed to be cool, collected, and interesting? The larger boy looked over Draco's shoulder and shrugged, as sure about this as he was about arithmetic.

Oh well, Draco thought, opening the compartment door while feeling no need to knock.

"-it's the keeper that keeps the rings safe. He's..." the redheaded boy with the wild hand movements stopped speaking when Draco made his appearance in the doorway. The black haired boy looked up at the sound of the door opening, the dark redhead beside him did not look up from her frog - which he now realized was a _chocolate _frog...one which she apparently didn't deem appropriate to eat.

"Is it true?" Draco found himself asking, looking at the black haired boy curiously. He remembered him now that he saw the round rimmed glasses and unkempt hair. "They're saying all down the train that the Potter's are in this compartment. So it's you two, is it?"

The girl looked up from her chocolate frog at this, which he was now positive she _was _petting, and glared at him. It was strange, how unalike the two Potter twins looked save their green eyes. He tried to look under the boy's thick fringe to see the lightning shaped scar he'd heard of so much, but from his angle and the length of his hair it was impossible. It was almost silly how easy it was to see the girl's in comparison - jagged and glaring at anyone who wanted to look. It was exactly like it had been described: a vulgar and serrated 'X' carved into the left side of her neck. It was _disgusting_.

She had pretty eyes though. Or at least, they were pretty on her. It's not like he didn't realize they were the exact same as her brother's. It was just that there was so much more to them. Draco had been forced to meet so many people and hear so many stories from his gossiping parents - he knew who had stories. His father had told him early on that it was impressive how he could see the things that were hidden behind people's eyes. Draco had always been proud of it. He didn't know how he learned, but it wasn't something that he was taught and he wouldn't be able to teach someone else. It was just something that he could recognize, when someone had secrets hidden behind their eyes...and this girl was one of them. She had a story. She was doing something else besides _seeing _with those eyes of hers. They were still intense and annoyed, another something he could easily tell, and they clashed with her hair that was too red to be called auburn...but they were _seeing _things in a way her brother's weren't.

When he pulled back, looking away from whatever was behind her eyes, he realized he had seen these two before. It had been back in Madam Malkin's shop during his trip to Diagon Alley for his school supplies. This was the boy who had talked back to him and the girl who had ignored him.

"Yes," the boy with black hair - who he now knew must have been as Harry Potter - said to him tightly. His eyes flickered to Crabbe and Goyle behind him, but Draco was distracted by the glare that the girl - who must have been Audrey Potter - would not let off of him.

"This is Crabbe, and this is Goyle," Draco couldn't even pretend to care. The girl's eyes narrowed. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Audrey Potter rolled her eyes before she looked away from him, back to her chocolate frog - which she seemed to whisper to. Was this girl insane?

The laugh is what distracted him and brought his eyes back to the ginger sitting across from the two twins. The ginger was identifiable thanks to his father's cutting words that he had heard so many times in preparation for this year.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles and more children than they can afford." He sneered at the ginger, noticing when he looked back to speak to the other two that Audrey Potter's face was burning red - was it in annoyance or insecurity? He _had _kind of just described her...accidentally, but he had. It was obvious the Potter's had not come from the money it was rumoured: her hair was crookedly cut and dry, the freckles on her nose looked to be from staying outside for too long, and she was wearing oversized muggle clothing that did nothing to hide her protruding bones. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others. You two don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held out his hand, waiting for Potter to take it. It seemed right to make good with _the _Harry Potter first before he tried to detangle the thoughts behind his twin sister.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," and he looked away. Did-did Harry Potter just _reject _him?

Draco dropped his hand quickly, looking at Harry and feeling his face heat up. He noticed that Audrey Potter's face was still red, while she slid down further in her seat, glaring at the chocolate frog in her hand as if it had wronged her.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he couldn't help but threaten. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."

And finally he got a reaction, Audrey Potter stood from her seat. Tiny in comparison to him, barely four foot while he was well over since his eleventh birthday. Her face was nearly as red as her hair, making her eyes clash in an unnatural looking chemical reaction.

"If all you value are the things you've just offered, I think this conversation is over." Her voice was quiet, but nonetheless effective.

"No, he should say that again," Ron threatened, his face just as red as hers as he stood up beside her. Malfoy pushed out a laugh, averting his eyes from the vibrant green of the Potters.

"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?"

"Unless you get out now," Harry Potter offered with a stubbornness that upset him. He had a terrible feeling that he may have just ruined one of the most important things he was told to do when he got to school this term. His father had told him: get into Slytherin, befriend Harry Potter, and uphold the Malfoy name. But neither Potter seemed to want anything to do with him now - they'd fallen for the blood traitor's tricks. He'd have to make up a story for his father that made him seem like he tried a lot harder - but he didn't actually want to. There was something about Harry Potter that just didn't smell right to him. There was something...off about him.

Goyle made a reach for the chocolate frog boxes left beside the Weasley, grabbing onto one before letting out a cry. When he pulled his hand back, dropping the box onto the ground, there was a mangy old _rat _biting into his knuckle. He let out another yell, swinging the rat around to try and dislodge it and was finally able to toss it at the window.

Crabbe let out a curse, grabbing onto the chocolate frog that Goyle had dropped and followed Draco as he backed out of the compartment with a scoff. When they were all in the hall, Goyle complaining about his throbbing knuckle the whole walk back, Draco hissed at them and grabbed the chocolate frog from Crabbe's pocket.

"This was worth you two making me look bad?" he hissed, shaking the chocolate frog in his hand. Both boys looked at it longingly, they had already eaten all of their sweets from the trolley, but Draco shoved it into his pocket. He'd save it for in his dormitory when he needed one of them to do him a favour and unpack his trunk for him.

"Who brings a rat, anyway?" Goyle mumbled. "Rats are dumb."

"_You're _dumb," Draco pointed out, walking back into their compartment and looking out at the darkened sky. He was glad that this blasted train ride was almost over and he wouldn't have to worry about people trying to make friends or people going through compartments to look for a _toad._

His thoughts went back to the girl in the compartment when he thought back to frogs and toads. It was hard not to think about her for too long, she was just so _strange. _First she ignores him in Diagon Alley, then she doesn't listen to him in the train, then she is petting a chocolate frog, then she doesn't side with him...then again she didn't really stick up for her brother, did she? No matter, she _did _stand up for a _Weasley_.

Clearly there was something terribly wrong with the girl.

The train began to slow and Draco easily managed to convince Crabbe and Goyle to carry his trunk for him, not that it was a difficult task. While Goyle lugged both Draco and his trunk , Crabbe pushed people out of Draco's way. The platform that they got off on was exactly like his father had described: he'd been to Hogsmeade before, but his mother had always been very close to the idea that he shouldn't ruin the experiences and surprises of first year.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! C'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!" It was that obnoxious giant who had chaperoned the Potter twins to Diagon Alley...he noticed they were even talking to them now. Harry Potter was talking between he and Weasley and Audrey Potter was even smiling up at the giant. It was strange, he didn't expect her smile to look like that. He couldn't have explained what he had originally pictured it to look like...but it wasn't like that.

He followed the crowd, listening to Crabbe and Goyle bicker over whether or not they would all get to be in a boat together. These blokes were so overwhelmingly fat that the boats may not be able to support their mass and as they walked over toward the edge of a large lake - the Black Lake, as his father had told him - they realized it was four to a boat. Draco just couldn't help hoping that they'd be allowed to sit without another, thanks to their bulk, at least.

They climbed into the boat, snapping at a mousy little boy who tried to get in the boat with them. It was easy to avoid questions after that, it had caused enough of a stir in the group of first years that no one else wanted to try sitting with he, Crabbe, and Goyle.

Their boat was obviously lower as they floated toward their new school. It looked like Crabbe was afraid of falling in, but not as afraid as a boat three up.

"Just don't look, Drea," Harry Potter's voice, one that he doubted he would ever be able to forget after what he had heard him say on the train. He dismissed _him, _Draco Malfoy! What would his father say when he found out?

"I'm not looking but that doesn't mean I don't know I'm on water," another voice, a shaky voice, snapped in response. "I'm going to be sick. We're going to tip-"

"Audrey, we're fine!"

"Potter's afraid of water," Goyle chortled, "what a git."

"You're afraid of missing your next meal," Draco found himself drawling. He didn't know why he had the sudden urge to defend her, but it was nice to think that the larger-than-life Potter twins had something they were afraid of. It humanized them in a way he liked. "Don't be too cocky."

The crowd of first years all fawned over the sight in front of them while they waded in their boats. The castle was exactly like what he'd seen in his father's pictures, some of the windows illuminated in the dark of night. It had all the turrets and towers - all the space needed for more than seven floors, a courtyard and a Great Hall...and all those other little nooks and crannies his father had decided was best to keep quiet.

"Everyone here?" the giant checked when everyone had clambered up onto the damp grass of the shore. "You there, still got yer toad?"

Crabbe and Goyle groaned, Draco knew instinctively that their minds had wandered to the chocolate frog still in his pocket that he'd taken from them after they'd been stupid. He couldn't believe that after buying out half of the trolley on the train they were still hungry at all.

The giant knocked on the grand wooden doors of the castle, bolts and locks behind them clinked as they began to unlock to let the students in. When the door opened itself, Draco got a glimpse of what he was sure was his first professor: a tall, bifocaled, emerald-robed woman with a pinched face that he had a feeling stayed that way. He had enough family members who had the same problem to know the signs.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid introduced to her, while her eyes raked over the crowd in front of her.

"She's the Transfiguration teacher, head of Gryffindor." Draco added to Crabbe, not finding it in him to care that the boy probably knew already.

"You know everything, Malfoy," Crabbe smiled, sounding genuinely impressed. Then again, maybe that idiot never paid attention to anything he'd been taught.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." The door widened when she turned to lead them into the entrance hall. It had a high ceiling and lit with torches all along the walls and marble staircases that lead to the higher floors. Draco made a note to remind Crabbe and Goyle that they moved.

He was near the head of the group when McGonagall led the students across the entrance hall. Behind the door to the Great Hall - or what he thought was the Great Hall - he could hear the hundreds of voices that could only have been from the rest of the student population. She continued leading them to a chamber off the hall where they crowded together so that they could all have a chance at fitting. Draco moved to the back, just so he didn't have to worry about people touching him constantly.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," the stern woman began. It was obviously a well rehearsed speech of hers. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin-" Draco could not stop the pull on his lip when he heard the name of the house his father had urged. He tried to ignore the flop in his stomach that warned him of the pressures for getting into that house. "Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Under her scrutiny, most people tended to fidget to make themselves look more presentable. Draco didn't find the need to move, his father had taught him how to make his hair stay perfectly and his mother had procured him the nicest robes. In front of him, the Weasley was rubbing furiously at his nose and the two Potter's were fixing their hair: the boy flattening it and the girl fluffing it - it looked like she was trying to style it to curve around the scar on her neck. She had little success, he noted, her hair was a mess.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," Professor McGonagall stated. "Please wait quietly."

She left them waiting to get into the Great Hall to be sorted. Draco was not necessarily worried about how they would be sorted - like many people were whispering about - but he was worried about what would happen if the sorting went wrong. If he didn't get into Slytherin, he didn't know how his father would react.

What if he got into Ravenclaw? He knew he was smarter than most of the students around him. He'd had the best tutors Galleons could buy - but he didn't want to be the stupid person in the smart group. It would humiliate him.

What if he got into Hufflepuff? Merlin, he didn't want to be considered leftovers. He was a Malfoy and Malfoys were not 'hard workers' and he hated having to play fair, that was boring, and people like him didn't need to do anything like 'hard work' to reap the benefits.

What if he got into Gryffindor? The suggestion made him cringe. That house was beneath all other houses, it was something that he knew would not be allowed in his family. He was sure that he would be cast out just like his mother's cousin had been - he'd made it into Gryffindor and he had been shipped off to Azkaban thanks to making friends with the wrong sort. And his father had told him quite clearly that the wrong sort were the ones who got themselves into trouble just for some shred of nobility.

No, he was meant for Slytherin. Slytherin was for the cunning and sly, which was far a much more prevalent kind of nobility than real _nobility. _Father had always told him that nobility can be bought by the knights you can hire as guards, that you couldn't be brave and live at the same time. Draco had taken the advice to heart, Draco had also taken to heart that Gryffindors were brave _and _noble and because of this, _stupid_.

Before he could think and worry anymore, twenty ghosts appeared from the back wall. Flying through the hard stones, transparent and white as snow, the ghosts wandered and went about their business ignoring the students as they passed.

"New students!" the Fat Friar, the ghost most known with the Hufflepuffs, smiled at them all. "About to be sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded in response, Goyle being one. Draco hit him upside the head.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" the Friar smiled. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," McGonagall's sharp tone cut through the excitement some of the mudbloods felt about seeing their first ghosts. _Filth_. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start. Now, form a line and follow me."

Walking through to the Great Hall was unlike anything even he could have imagined. No matter how many stories or descriptions his mother and father could have given him, he would never have been able to imagine all the intricacies of the Great Hall. The four house tables, long and coloured with gold plates and house colours, were what drew his attention first. Gryffindor on the far left, Ravenclaw beside that, Hufflepuff beside that, and Slytherin taking up the right side of the hall. The staff table, up at the head of the room, was placed width-wise to look at all of the students as they ate.

The students in their seats, with spaces open at the ends closest to the teachers for their new first years, were all watching them file in. Some seemed to be taking bets. Some were waving to friends. Draco didn't want to be any of those people, so he kept his head firmly up to the front, where a four legged stool was placed under the moon - or the bewitched moon that happened to hang in the bewitched ceiling.

McGonagall put a frayed, tattered hat on the stool. It didn't look fit to be on so much as a halfblood's head, but he wasn't about to try arguing with it. Who knew what the professors would do in rebuttal - use legilimency and put him in his least favourite house? Knowing Snape, who sat up their proudly, it was the least they would do to deal with arrogance.

Draco watched as the house, it's face demented with age, ripped itself open to sing.

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.  
There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be.  
You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry  
Set Gryffindors apart;  
You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
And unafraid of toil;  
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, if you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;  
Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folk use any means  
To achieve their ends.  
So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The hall clapped more than it probably should have for its song. It wasn't that impressive and it hadn't said enough about Slytherin for his taste, but he joined in while McGonagall came up to speak, just so that he wouldn't be singled out if someone happened to take offense.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted...Abbott, Hannah!" the girl that went up was nothing magnificent. It looked like her four year old sister had styled her hair into those ridiculous pigtails and her red face made her look like she was choking on a sweet. When the hat was placed on her head it only took a moment before the hat shouted:

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Figures," Draco couldn't help muttering. Crabbe and Goyle laughed.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Great, we have a row of berks this year." Draco said again, feeling pleased when the two boys behind him laughed again.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

Now the blue table took to clapping, more polite than the excited applause the earlier two girls had gotten from the Hufflepuffs.

A few others were called, no one that Draco really cared to catch the names of. Not until Millicent Bullstrode, a hairy-armed girl his mother had introduced him to years before, was made the first official Slytherin. They cheered loudest, something almost close to jeering, to try and beat the others for the loudest table.

"Crabbe, Vincent!" Crabbe stopped chuckling at something Goyle had said as if he had forgotten that his name would eventually be called. He walked up to the stool with his mouth hanging open, as if he were winning some award and still stunned. McGonagall had to usher him to the stool to make him move faster.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Draco clapped for him, watching as Crabbe nervously went over to the Slytherin table - apparently he didn't know what to do now that he didn't have someone to obey for a few minutes. Pathetic.

After a few names "Goyle, Gregory" was called. Luckily, Goyle had the sense to at least try and look somewhat put together as he made his way to the stool - which almost buckled when he sat on it. It only took a moment for the hat to make its decision.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Draco clapped again, trying to reign in his look of surprise - because he _was _almost surprised. Though both Crabbe and Goyle had the personalities of Slytherins, it was hard to think that Crabbe or Goyle had the mind power to be anything but Hufflepuffs.

"MacDougal, Morag!" McGonagall called, looking over the crowd to find the boy who had been called. Draco didn't recognize the short boy who made it on the stool, but couldn't help clapping a little more enthusiastically when the hat called out Slytherin.

"Malfoy, Draco!"

This was it, the moment that he had been waiting for since he was old enough to wait for anything besides being taken care of. He tried looking as confident as he could when he went up to the hat, shooting the crowd a confident face - he needed to be a Slytherin to make all his lifelong plans work. He would never get away with the things he had dreamed of if he were in something awful like _Gryffindor._

The hat was going to be lowered on his head, he thought about everything he'd ever done. Everything cunning, everything sly - stealing his father's wand when he slept and trying to unlock the pantry, going into his mother's diary to figure out what her favourite flowers were, trying to learn Latin so that his tutor couldn't read his homework and mark him poorly-

"SLYTHERIN!"

He fought hard keeping his face close to impartial as he slipped off the stool and made it over to the Slytherin table. They were all cheering, including the Slytherins that had already been sorted. After trading a few words to show how confident he was in himself, he turned back to the crowd of first years, the list slowly getting lower and lower while Lillian Moon, Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson were sorted. He couldn't help moving with the school as they all took a breath, knowing whose name came next.

"Potter, Audrey!"

It was a strange mix of whispers and silence that met the great hall - it was like the whispers were carrying such an undertone that there weren't any whispers at all. The girl he couldn't help noticing constantly from Diagon Alley and the train and even the boats walked up to the hat. She looked less confident than Pansy had, before her. But she sat straight on the stool, gripping the seat with white knuckles.

The hat did not make up its mind quickly. Whatever it had decided to dig through in her mind, it seemed there was a lot of - which was exactly like Draco had thought there was. Girls with eyes like that didn't have trivial thoughts about schoolwork.

"SLYTHERIN!"

When the hat was finally pulled over her head, everyone was in shock. At first, the Slytherins forgot to clap for her, starting into a slow clap that lead to howls and whistles. Even the head of house, Professor Snape, looked shell-shocked by the results - he even dared to clap for his first student of the eve. The redhead walked nervously down to the Slytherin table, keeping her eyes on her brother the whole time, who shook his head and shrugged innocently - he didn't know what it meant.

It meant that Potter was more interesting than Draco had initially thought.

Harry Potter went up as his name was called, still with the undertone buzz of whispers that seemed to ring in your ears like intense silences did. Audrey had made it to the far side of the hall by now and had taken a seat there, her eyes firmly placed on her brother.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The whispers worsened. Now all he could hear was a subliminal buzz that informed him that twins are rarely separated and in such different houses. How would the Potter twins be together in feuding houses? How would-

Who cares? He found himself thinking, looking over to the new - and only - redheaded member of their first year Slytherin class. She wasn't anything special. She obviously didn't have much money even though her robes were new, she didn't know magic so she must be muggle raised, and her scar didn't have powers even though she hid it like it did. She was nothing special, just another insecure little kid who wanted to join the big, bad, wizarding world.

Though Draco Malfoy had to admit, the new development of Audrey Potter and her brother's separation made her _much _more interesting now. What had made them so different that they were polar opposites? What made her eyes so much more shrewd than his?

By the time that the sorting was done - earning Ayla Rivers and Blaise Zabini a Slytheirn ranking - and Dumbledore had made a nonsensical speech that Draco was thankful he'd been warned about, the feast had begun. The golden dishes in front of him had piled themselves with food, every food, any food - all the foods that he had ever eaten and then some that he had never been allowed to.

"Oh come on," Pansy Parkinson urged the red headed girl who was still staring aimlessly in front at the food. "Pick something to eat and get on with it. You're too thin."

"I've never seen..." Potter breathed, "is this how it always is?"

"Not so grand," a second year Draco didn't recognize voiced in. "But pretty much. Special occasions always have more option."

"But I can eat as much food as I want? Whenever I want?"

"What's wrong with you?" Pansy asked her with a snort, pulling a chicken leg off the chicken in front of them and putting it on the other girl's plate. "Were you bound and tortured by muggles your whole life? Haven't you ever eaten off a refillable plate?"

"No, I haven't," she looked over to the raven haired girl with a glare. "And yes, I was."

"That's not funny," Pansy began, even though she let out a laugh. "You're _the _Audrey Potter, you can't lie about your upbringing. We all know you would only get the best."

"I did," she said with another glare to Pansy. "I got the best muggle education, lifestyle, and block to magic there is. Now, if you'd stop teasing me about it and get your fat fingers off my plate, I can get on with my night."

Though Pansy Parkinson, who Draco's mother had always said to be nice to, normally kept him entertained, Draco Malfoy could not deny how nice it was to see the nosey brat be put down a peg by someone like her. He watched her as she rifled through the food, picking a bit of this and a bit of that, though looking overwhelmed by it.

"I'm Daphne Greengrass," the blonde girl beside her shook her hand. "Pureblood."

"Oh," Audrey looked confused. "I'm Audrey Potter...er, redblood."

"No, no, no," Daphne laughed at her. "You're a halfblood."

"I am?"

"Of course. Your mother was a mu-u-uggle," he could hear Greengrass' mind shift from saying 'mudblood', "and your Dad was a full wizard. You're half and half. It's alright though, it's not something the kid can control, that's what my Mummy says."

"Oh, then I guess I'm a halfblood," she blushed, her face going pink as she started looking through all the food again - even though she had yet to touch her plate. "I guess I need to get used to everyone knowing more about me than I do."

"Yes, we all do," Draco piped in. "Except I still don't see why you haven't been eating."

"Er-" she paused, looking down at her plate. "I was just looking for something specific."

He furrowed his eyebrow skeptically. "Like what?"

"Er..." she shrugged, picking at the food she'd placed on her plate. "Some sweets. I was hoping, maybe, for some chocolate frogs..."

"What?"

Every food from every culture and every corner of the world was in front of her. Belgian chocolate, swiss chocolate, pumpkin pasties, cauldron cakes, chocolate truffles, cupcakes, candy kabobs...and she wanted a _chocolate frog_?

"Oh," Daphne looked just as shocked. "You must like them a lot..."

"Well, you see the last one melted when I got mad," Potter gave Draco a cool stare that he didn't have enough time to try and strip down. "I didn't get a chance to free it."

"_Free _it?" Pansy repeated, her voice shrill.

"Free it, Ron told me it was just a charm but it was so lifelike - I wanted to let it try to live on its own and see what happened...but it melted," she frowned a bit, sinking slightly in her seat. Between the look of disbelief from Draco, Daphne, Pansy and the others who happened to be sat around them, Potter probably had enough to worry about. But Pansy decided that the situation wasn't bad enough.

"Mother always tells me not to play with my food," she said haughtily. "So I guess that makes sense why you don't know _that _rule."

Even Draco raised his eyebrows, watching as the Potter twin's face began to burn as red as hot embers. Pansy seemed to have noticed her mistake because she was slowly inching away from Potter as if she was going to catch on fire.

"Well - Pansy, was it? - all I have to say to you is thank you for that," the redhead said simply, turning in her seat to look back at her plate.

"Thank you...to me?"

"Yes," she said, not even dignifying her by looking at her. "It's nice to know who my enemies are early on; it leaves me to sort out your weaknesses. And I can already tell by your fat fingers - which likely comes from how you like stuffing your face like you are now - what is one of yours."

Pansy looked particularly victimized, looking around at any of us for help, but none of us could keep the smiles from our faces. Daphne, who seemed to have been friends with Pansy long before today, cast a worried glance between the two.

"You know what, Potter," Draco couldn't help but say, a smirk lining his lips at the thoughts fluttering through his mind. "You're not half bad. I think with the proper education and company, we could get along."

"I don't get along with brats like you," she said simply. Daphne looked wide eyed between them.

"Audrey, that is _Draco Malfoy_!"

"I've heard," she said simply, looking from her to him and back to her food impassively.

"Draco Malfoy is famous...kind of like you," she muttered lowly to her, though everyone knew what she was saying. "He's not someone you want to cross."

"He's also not someone I want to be friends with," she said simply. "He's done nothing for me but be rude - friendships aren't one way streets. I'm not one of his goons, there."

Her fork pointed crudely at Crabbe and Goyle, who were too busy getting third plates of food to take notice of the gesture. Draco's cheeks tinged pink, he didn't like the idea of being shunned once by her brother and a second time by her. Even as she went back to picking at her food, it insulted him. It was as if she didn't realize - no, she didn't _care _- that she had just insulted him. _Him_! Draco Malfoy!

"Audrey," Daphne could see Draco's annoyance rising. "Please, just - why don't you try again? I'm sure he'd be very nice to you now - now that - er..."

"Now that your brother isn't here," Draco said quickly, watching her reaction. It was a slight wince and a quick glance over in the direction of the Gryffindor table. The girl looked at her plate again. "It'd be nice being friends with the _better _Potter. Only the best get in here and we only get the best of everything in the school. So obviously, only _the best Potter _could get into Slytherin and that you got in and your brother didn't just means you're the most powerful."

She raised her head a bit. "Houses aren't chosen by power...are they?"

He smirked, he couldn't help it while he watched her play right into his hand. I guess ignorance really could be bliss, for both of them. "Of course they are, the teachers just don't like to admit it. And Gryffindors aren't even second to Slytherins - Ravenclaws are. They're the smartest, you know. But Slytherins? We rule the roost. Everyone knows it - even the professors."

She turned her head up to the head table, pausing for a long, drawn out moment.

"Who's that?"

"Who's who?" Daphne asked, trying to follow her gaze.

"The man with the black hair at the teacher's table," she said slowly. "He looks..."

"Greasy," Daphne giggled. "That's Professor Snape. He's head of Slytherin house and Potions master - he's a genius but he's gross."

"Gross?"

"Look at him," Daphne giggled again. "Tell her Draco, you know him."

"Professor Snape is a great man," he said firmly, listening as Daphne's giggles died out. "He's the best here and he's ours - hates the Gryffindors, cause they're all so stupid. Are you any good at potions, Potter?"

"I don't know," she mumbled, stabbing into her meal before dropping her fork onto her plate. "Can we leave now? Can we just go when we're ready?"

"No," Montague, a second year, smiled at her. "Have to stay here until the prefects take us back."

"This is going to be terrible," Potter sighed as she melted farther down into her seat, peeling something away from her palm with a scowl. When Draco moved slightly - and unnoticeably enough - to look, he saw she was rubbing chocolate from her palm.

"Here," Draco said quickly, hoping to mend bridges and get on her good side - at least _one _Potter's good side - while he took the chocolate frog out of his pocket. True, it had come from her compartment and true, it had technically been stolen - but it was a chocolate frog and he could offer it to her.

She looked at the box while he placed it on her plate - which had cleared itself as if it knew she wasn't eating anymore. It was just the box, but her eyes were lit up with such an excitement that it was like it was Christmas day. Slowly, she raised it to eye level, cracking the box open to look into it and taking a deep breath when she felt the box tremble. Slowly she took out the chocolate frog and placed it on her hand - surprisingly, it didn't even try to jump away.

"Hello," she said to it distantly. Daphne looked at her nervously, probably worrying that the new friend she had made, who just-so-happened to be Audrey Potter, may be insane.

"Glad you like it," Draco said simply, almost amused by the childish innocence that it brought out in her. He hadn't expected that kind of innocence from someone with eyes like that. To surprise him even more, the redhead looked up from the chocolate frog in her hand and threw him a smile - a large, toothy smile.

"Thank you," she told him...it sounded sincere.

"Only the best," he echoed, watching as her smile fell slightly and her gaze wandered back over to the Gryffindor table. She watched what must have been her brother for a long moment before some stray thought that flashed behind her eyes made her smirk - a confident, dry smirk that didn't need an explanation.

Draco was already planning to owling his father that very night and talk about his eventful evening. His father would be proud - he'd made it into Slytherin, he'd upheld his family name because of it, and better he'd made friends with a Potter. Sure, it was not the Harry Potter that his father had suggested, but something told him that Audrey Potter would be more interesting to befriend. It was particularly easy to tell while he watched her giggle over the reactions of the girls sitting beside her while her chocolate frog jumped around her plate.

Yes, Draco almost smiled too. Audrey Potter was very interesting, indeed.

* * *

**Based off of my story **_Green Eyed Monster_**.**

**This was edited by **_Angel of the Night Watchers. _**I do not own the Harry Potter universe or its characters. I do own Audrey Potter, her ridiculously vivid potion-making skills, and her wicked nicknames. **

**Enjoy the flashbacks and ****please review**** :)**


	3. September 2nd, 1993

September 2nd, 1993

"Audrey, would you please stop _bouncing_?" Daphne, as always, was upset with me for some reason or another, you could never really know for sure why she was annoyed: if it was really your doing or if she just decided to hate the world for the day. Today, it seemed that I was too _happy _for her taste. I was only so happy thanks to the fact that lunch had ended without incident and now we were starting to venture outside in the warm autumn air – it was like a break of its own, even though we were headed to a class.

Then again, the class was probably half of my excitement.

Last night, when Dumbledore had announced that the man from Harry's compartment was our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher I had not been surprised. It was odd to see a teacher ride the express, sure, but like both years before this we had needed a new professor for that class. When I heard, however, that we would be getting Hagrid as a new teacher for a class that involved caring for magical creatures? Well, to say I felt shocked would be redundant. And to say that I felt like I was finally in my element was an understatement.

"That Trelawney is barmy, don't you think?" Daphne continued on our slow procession toward Hagrid's hut. I was, of course, leading them as after two years they were still made nervous by the large man so they'd never wanted to come with me to visit him.

"Barmy is one word," Theo could barely contain his smile while he sniggered. "I think she's suicidal considering how she handled Audrey today."

"Who _flicks _a student's forehead?" I burst, remembering the interaction bitterly as I placed my fingers to my forehead. "I mean, all that 'having the Sight' stuff was hilarious, sure, but there was no need for authoritative abuse."

"You _were _talking through her lecture," Theodore pointed out.

"Well, yes, I was asking for some peppermint to chew until I could get up to the infirmary. It's not my fault I get migraines, Theodore." I was indignant, sure, but why shouldn't I be? It was ridiculous that some batty old teacher had flicked me in the forehead talking about my third eye and scolding me for trying to use peppermint when I should be _embracing _my pain. "She's a loon."

"But an easy grade," Theodore pointed out again. Daphne and I both hummed our approval, skipping down the steps to the forest where we could see the rest of the class starting to gather. We were not the last there, luckily, but I was also glad we weren't the first. As much as I loved Hagrid, I would not want to have to juggle my mutual friends with Harry against the friends who share my daily schedule.

"There's your brother, oh, hi Harry!" Daphne, not so subtly, had a slight fancy for my brother. I don't think she would ever consider anything with him if he returned the interest, but I think a part of her got off on the idea of seducing a famous hero who saved the school from a basilisk last year.

"Er – hi, Daphne," Harry looked at me awkwardly, prompting me to roll my eyes. "So, that Divination class..."

"Rubbish," Hermione butted in with a frown. "It's a useless class, so much less interesting than Ancient Ruins and Arithmancy."

"By the way, how are you managing all that?" I asked, having looked over her schedule this morning at breakfast. "I mean, do you really plan to miss some classes on certain days so that you can go to others – it'll just set you behind, won't it?"

"I'll be able to work it out," Hermione assured, turning back to the door of Hagrid's hut where he was waiting for the rest of the Slytherins to join him.

"What kinds of things do you think we'll be learning?" I asked Harry, not quite able to contain my excitement. He even laughed at me, rubbing my arm a little bit.

"I don't know, Audrey," Hermione butted in again. "But it's nice to finally see you enthusiastic about your studies."

"Oh, come off it," I snorted dismissively, "I always enjoy the classes that prove any worth to me. Such as Potions."

"And?" Ron raised an eyebrow. I pretended to think about my answer for a moment.

"Nope, just potions."

By the time the rest of my house was in sight of Hagrid's large – and yet quite small – hut, he looked about as excited and impatient as I was, waving them over with a booming voice.

"C'mon, now, get a move on! Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin' up! Everyone here?" He waited a moment while the rest of the Slytherins that had slowed their pace rebelliously came into the group of us. "Right, follow me!"

There was a moment, a horrifying moment, where most of us froze, watching as he began to head toward the Forbidden Forest. Considering my experiences of the last two years in those woods, I refused to enter unless I was being forced by detention or by some horrifying monster chasing after me. Until such time that were to happen...again...I planned to keep my feet placed firmly on the ground here.

When Hagrid clipped the edge of the trees, staying closer to the edge of the grounds and not going within the thicket, I began to follow him with the Gryffindors who were pretending like they didn't mind. Gryffindors were _so _brave, apparently, though I usually wasn't around when it happened. After a long few moments – filled with complaints from Daphne and the Slytherins behind us – he had led us to a large pen made of splintering wood and old wire. Inside was ripe grass and trotted-on flowers...but nothing else.

"Everyone gather 'round the fence here," Hagrid called to us. "That's it – make sure yeh can see – now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books-"

"How?" The drawl, as it always did, came from Malfoy who was standing over on the other side of the enclosure's fencing, holding his Monster Book of Monster's at arm's length with a sneer. He had bound it with rope, while most people had theirs belted. I pulled my book out, held together by with a thin black belt. Even Harry beside me, as much as we disliked him, seemed to echo that thought. "How do we open our books?"

"Hasn' – hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?" Hagrid asked, looking completely put out by the lack of response. I was about to raise my hand, as I had figured out how to just three nights prior after cooing it to sleep, but Daphne gave me such a fierce glare that I put my hand back down.

Right. Sometimes I forgot her loathing of individuality.

"Yeh've got ter stroke 'em," Hagrid told as if it were the simplest answer ever. Even I was shocked with that, considering where I had tried petting had only made it snap at me more. "Look."

Hagrid took hold of Hermione's book and peeled off the Spellotape around the teeth. The book went to bite at him, as all the books would when someone attempted to open them, but before it had the chance Hagrid ran a finger down the book's spine causing the furry cover to shiver and open itself quietly within his hand.

"Oh, how silly we've all been!" Malfoy's sarcasm was biting. "We should have stroked them! Why didn't we guess?"

"I – I thought they were funny," Hagrid said to himself quietly, looking as if someone had just taken away his damn puppy. Apparently the giant knew how to give a damn impressive guilt trip because even _I _felt bad for the sarcasm. I gave him a gentle tap on the hand.

"Oh, tremendously funny!" Malfoy continued sharply. "Really witty, giving us books that try and rip our hands off!"

"I happened to think it _was _funny," I spat back promptly, my glare aimed past Hagrid to my daily annoyance. "After all, it was funny seeing dopes like you get bitten when you tried to abuse the poor thing."

"'Poor thing'?" Malfoy scoffed. "It's a man-eating book, Potter. A book that hates to be open? How is that funny by any standards?"

"It's funny because it almost ripped your hand off," I repeated. "And it's a poor thing because it actually _did _have to bite you – I hope your book's not diseased." I turned to Hagrid with an enthusiastic – yet still sarcastic – grin. "I'd really like to know what we're learning about today, professor, before we're rudely interrupted again."

"Righ' then," Hagrid cleared his throat, he'd lost his pace and looked very self conscious thanks to all of Malfoy's complaints. "So – so yeh've got yer books an'...an'...now yeh need the Magical Creatures. Yeah. So I'll go an' get 'em. Hang on..."

Hagrid, looking red in the face, turned around to walk around the fencing and a bit further into the Forbidden Forest than any of us wanted to even look.

"God, this place is going to the dogs," Malfoy scowled after him. "That oaf teaching classes, my father'll have a fit when I tell him-"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry hissed.

"The only reason this place is going to the dogs is because they let mutts like you and Parkinson in here," I hissed looking over to the pug-faced girl who was literally waiting for the best moment to grasp onto Malfoy's arm – which she did as soon as she was addressed.

"Audrey," Daphne groaned taking a step away from me so as to avoid any confrontation involving her and her alternative pureblood posse. Theodore made a sound in his throat and turned his head away – I knew he would back me if he needed to, but he was not one for confrontation of any kind if he could avoid it. Myself, however...

"_Me_the mutt?" Parkinson repeated. "That's rich, coming from a halfblood!"

"Careful, Potter," Malfoy smirked toward Harry. "There's a Dementor behind you-"

"Oooooooh!" Lavender Brown, a mousy but quirky girl had broken the tension between us by dragging our attention toward what must have been our lesson for the day.

Across the paddock, coming forward at a trot, were a bunch of...of...Hippogriffs? I had never seen a Hippogriff or a griffin, but I knew that both had avian heads while one was made of lion-esc features and the other horse – I just wasn't sure which was which.

These particular creatures had the hind quarters of a horse with the front legs, wings and head of an eagle. The long, curved talons looked closer to a dinosaur claw than anything I had seen in the human world and their orange eyes reminded me of bright sunsets.

"Gee up, there!" Hagrid yelled, shaking chains that I noticed were attached to leather collars around each of their necks. The creatures started trotting toward the fence where we were all gathered, most taking a step back – a few of us more curious ones leaning closer toward them, watching as he tied them up.

"Hippogriffs!" Hagrid smiled to all of us, showing off the Hippogriffs in the pasture with a proud swoop of his arm. "Beau'iful, aren' they?"

And they were. Sure, the Hippogriff's were shocking thanks to their size and I'm sure some people were distracted by the orange eyes, but they were really quite stunning. Their movements were more fluid than a horse's – must have come from their eagle parts – and they almost shone with a – dare I say? – _gentleness _that had to have come from the horse.

They were amazing.

"So," Hagrid gave a nervous sort of clap, "if yeh wan' ter come a bit nearer..."

I doubt that Hagrid looking nervous had done anyone any good, but thanks to Malfoy I could tell that the giant had been thrown a bit off his game. Because of this, I pressed my belly against the fencing, seeing out of my peripheral that Theodore had come forward only a step and Harry, Ron and Hermione had come forward to rest their palms against the fence. Hagrid seemed to think that was good enough.

"Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' Hippogriffs is, they're proud," Hagrid nodded to make sure everyone was listening. "Easily offended, Hippogriffs are. Don't never insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing yeh do."

A whisper came from somewhere behind me, but I pointedly ignored it. I didn't want Hagrid to see me looking away and think that I wasn't interested – not that I really cared about his ego, but I worried that he may not want to continue the lesson if he felt to hurt, which was the last thing I wanted...this was the one class I wanted to pay attention in. Potions was almost boring now that I knew it inside out and this was new and something I could really relate to. I needed Hagrid to be on top of his game.

"Yeh always wait fer the Hippogriff ter make the firs' move," Hagrid continued. "It's polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn' bow, then get away from him sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt. Right – who wants ter go first?"

There was a general consensus throughout the class that no one wanted to risk getting near a Hippogriff. I looked behind me to see the class had stepped back even farther toward Hagrid's cabin and Harry, Ron and Hermione were looking to each other with anxious expressions. It could have been because the Hippogriff's were flexing their wings and making a squealing kind of sound – but I think it was mostly thanks to their size.

"No one?" Hagrid looked about ready to cry again.

Lucky for him I was too excited to be terrified.

"Can I do it?" I asked him, raising my hand slightly so I could draw all the attention on myself. I hoped that those stupid Gryffindors – you know the oh-so-brave ones – felt a little bit embarrassed by being showed up by the girl in green.

"Well, of course yeh can, Audrey!" Hagrid beamed, motioning me forward. I bent down and squeezed myself between the horizontal beams of the wooden fence. I heard a couple people whispering and a very distinct groan and complaint from Daphne behind me, but I didn't show any attention toward it while I moved toward Hagrid who stopped me with a motion of his hand.

"Here, Buckbeak 'ere is the one yeh'll get 'long with best, I'd bet," Hagrid untied one of the chains, pulling out a gray Hippogriff and leading him toward me. I watched the Hippogriff as he came forward, eyes automatically glued to mine. He had a wonderful colour eyes, more amber than orange like some of his cohorts, it reminded me of Circe.

"Perfect, Audrey. Easy, easy, yeh've got to keep eye contact. Hippogriff's trust tha'," Hagrid informed me quietly. I didn't have problems keeping eye contact with the Hippogriff, he was very interesting and, like most animals, I could tell that he was very interested in me.

"Hello, there," I said quietly. I knew talking in a full voice may startle him. I'm sure he wasn't used to having humans not be scared of him. "I'm Audrey."

Students in the class had reverted to whispering again. Buckbeak's head slightly twitched toward them, his eyes not leaving mine, I could tell he didn't like the whispers.

"Alrigh', Audrey, tha's right. Now bow," Hagrid explained. I gave the Hippogriff a smile before bending down at my hips and keeping my eyes down. I knew that if I peaked he would probably consider it rude – hell, I'd probably consider it rude – it's not like I like it when people stare either. And people stare all the time when you're a Potter.

"Well done, Audrey!" I dared to look up thanks to the pride in Hagrid's voice. The Hippogriff, Buckbeak, had sunk into a very low bow, its beak almost touching the ground with the steepness of it. When I had straightened from my bow, the Hippogriff straightened from his own.

"Thank you," I said to it with a grin. The Hippogriff pawed the ground twice and reared its head a bit, making some of the students gasp. I couldn't help but giggle – maybe some people couldn't tell, but any animal who does that was trying to play.

"Yeh can touch him now, Audrey. Go on, he likes yeh, I can tell!" The pride in Hagrid's voice was almost palpable, which I had not heard from him in reference to me since that first year in Diagon Alley. It was almost...what? _Sweet_?

Ugh, I think I'm getting sentimental.

I took slow steps forward, whether Buckbeak had accepted my friendship or not I'm sure he wouldn't like it if I ran toward him and hugged him like my instinct was pretty much telling me to do. I went up to him, hand outstretched, and waited for him to make that last step to come to me before he began curling into my hand and...was he _purring_?

"Oh, well done, Audrey! Well done! Ten points for Slytherin!" Hagrid gave a clap, watching as some of the others clapped along with him. I moved from Buckbeak's beak to petting him behind his head which made his wings flare out and shake happily. He was adorable!

"I reckon he might let you ride him, Audrey-" Hagrid began but I pulled my hand away.

"No," I said quickly, shaking my head toward Hagrid. Buckbeak let out a bit of a screech, causing half of the students behind me to jump and yell, but when I put my hand out again, just like with my kneazle, he began to cuddle back into it. Apparently Buckbeak did not like losing attention. "I'm sorry, Hagrid, but I don't fly."

"Yeh've never flown on a Hippogriff," Hagrid pointed out, I shook my head.

"Sorry Hagrid, I like my feet on the ground." I jerked my head in the direction my brother had been. "But I bet some of our Quidditch jocks back there would _love _to show off their skills."

I heard Malfoy curse under his breath and heard Harry let out some sort of groan. Hagrid looked around the students, looking for any volunteers.

"I'll do it," Harry almost groaned out.

"Oooh, no, Harry, remember your tea leaves!" Lavender and Parvati whispered. I tried not to roll my eyes as I thought back to my brother's tea leaves being read by that batty teacher who had dared to _flick me _and then tell my brother he had the Grimm in his future. I had not seen a black dog when I'd grabbed the cup from Ron. I saw wasted tea – but maybe that was just me.

"Good man, Harry!" Hagrid smiled, looking relieved that the lesson was not about to end. "Right then – let's leave Buckbeak out and see how yeh get on with him. Audrey?"

I frowned, not really wanting to separate myself from the Hippogriff before I stopped petting him and gave him a slight bow again. He gave a low one in return, making a low sound in his mouth that sounded almost like a coo.

"This is my brother," I told him quietly. "Please be nice."

"Easy now, Harry," said Hagrid quietly. "Remember yeh've got eye contact, now try not ter blink...Hippogriffs don' trust yeh if yeh blink too much...Tha's it, tha's it, Harry...now, bow."

Though my brother looked terrified to do it, he stiffly bent his back and hunched in front of Buckbeak, his eyes keeping close on him the entire time. Buckbeak did not move.

"Ah," Hagrid sounded almost scared. "Right – back away, now, Harry. Easy does it-"

Buckbeak turned a look to me and I snapped my eyes to my brother and slightly bowed my head to the Hippogriff, trying to get him to bow to my brother and be kind. With another sound in the back of his throat, Buckbeak sank into a bow – not nearly as low as he had for me, but it seemed like he had gotten the idea. I smiled at the two of them.

"Well done, Harry!" said Hagrid, ecstatic, clapping again. I followed in and clapped loudly to influence others to follow the lead. "Right – yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!"

Though Harry's hand shook on the way to Buckbeak's beak, I watched as he patted the long beak and how Buckbeak's eyes closed lazily as if he were actually being massaged. Good, he liked him. Not as much as he liked me, of course, but he liked him. The class broke into applause again, all except for our Slytherin trio of morons – Dragonpox, Crabs and Gonorrhea – whose scowls were all matched.

"Righ' then, Harry," said Hagrid. "I reckon he migh' let yeh ride him!"

I frowned a little bit, feeling a sting of jealousy while Hagrid helped hoist my brother onto Buckbeak's back. The Hippogriff let out an impatient call as he waited, stamping his foot on the ground. I knew I probably should have taken the chance, the Hippogriff did like me, I just didn't think I would be able to fly again – last time it had been into the whomping willow and I didn't want to go through a mistake like that again, particularly for some joyride that I didn't know how to steer. At least with a broom or an enchanted car you had some method of control...

"Go on, then!" Hagrid encouraged giddily, hitting Buckbeak's rear until he began going.

"That should be you," Theodore whispered at my side. I nodded, not taking my eyes off of Buckbeak as he became airborne.

"It's Harry doing it instead, so isn't everything?" Everything Harry did _was _supposed to be an option for me too. We were twins, we both lived past that night...but no, Harry got everything, didn't he? Even to show me up by riding the goddamn Hippogriff when I said I wouldn't.

Yes, that makes you _brave, _brother.

The giant wings on either side of the Hippogriff moved powerfully, as he shot both he and Harry around the air before there was any time for my brother to consider differently. Harry did not look comfortable as the Hippogriff moved around the paddock, staying only ten feet off the ground before coming in for a landing that was not quite smooth. It jerked Harry forward, nearly making him topple over the Hippogriff's head before he managed to straighten up.

"Good work, Harry!" Hagrid smiled, everyone was clapping – save the Slytherin owl droppings. I managed to clap my hands a few times for him...I was admittedly a tiny bit jealous because he had gotten to do what I had not, I was even more jealous that he had done it in what looked like an effort to show off after my own accomplishments with meeting the Hippogriff. I don't know what I had expected – a twenty-five foot ascend, a path straight into the Forbidden forest, a sommersault in the air – but I hadn't expected a simple swoop around the fixture. Even I could have done something like _that_.

"Okay, who else wants to go?"

Apparently now that the other kids were excited, they were now also brave. Most students climbed into the enclosure now, picking a Hippogriff for cliques to bow to and fawn over. Neville didn't seem to have much luck, so I took the time to help him learn how to bow and _not _run away during it so that his Hippogriff would like him more – I was successful.

"Oh great," I mumbled, turning around after helping the Gryffindor to see that Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle and been the ones who had moved on to Buckbeak. I don't quite understand what animals like about Dungbomb Malfoy, but more seemed to prefer him than didn't, even after Buckbeak had bowed back to him and Malfoy glared at him darkly.

"This is very easy," Malfoy was sure to flicker his eyes toward Harry while he said it. "I knew it must have been, if the Potters could do it...I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you? Are you, you great ugly brute?"

"Malfoy!" I gasped, seeing the darkening of Buckbeak's eyes. Just as I was about to run forward, because even Malfoy was unnerved by the urgency in my tone, Buckbeak had bent back it's mighty arm and swiped determinedly at Malfoy, who had luckily started to back away after I'd yelled at him. Still, the Hippogriff hit his mark, catching Malfoy in the arm, blood seeping through his robes as he rolled over on the grassy expanse.

"I'm dying!" Malfoy yelled as everyone in the class began to panic, running away from their Hippogriff's which all were not taking well to the mass reaction against them. I moved to Buckbeak quickly, holding him back without needing to bow – I knew I wouldn't need to considering he liked me, just as all animals did – and slowly moving him back away from the scene. "I'm dying, look at me! It's killed me!"

"Yer not dyin'!" Hagrid said quickly, looking near terrified. I had to wonder how bad the damage was for him to look so nervous – had the claw caught Malfoy in the chest while it moved from his arm? The talon was a half foot long, but even Buckbeak had to know that the insult wasn't that bad. "Someone help me – gotta get him outta here-"

Hermione ran to the gate to move it open so that Hagrid could lift Malfoy out of there easily. He sent a look to me, one with terrified, wide eyes. I looked at Malfoy and shook my head, there was nothing I could – or _would – _do to comfort him when this was his own damn fault. Instead, I moved to Buckbeak again.

"Right git, inn'e?" I asked him as I pet him, the Hippogriff just closed his eyes happily. "You just got yourself in a lot of trouble, you know. I can tell this isn't the last we've heard from him. If there is anyone you can't piss off without consequences, it's Draco Malfoy."

* * *

The next time I saw Malfoy was when he sauntered into class a week later, halfway through potions. It's not like I hadn't heard very detailed analysis about each hour of his recovery thanks to the blatherings of Pansy Parkinson, but seeing him covered in a bandage and sling with the puffed of chest of a tough man made me think that he was laying it on a little thick in comparison to his usual performances.

"How is it, Draco?" Parkinson whispered when he took a seat in front of me, right behind Pansy Parkinson. He stuck Crabbe beside him, pulling him away from Goyle who now had to make this period's potion alone. "Does it hurt much?"

"Yeah," Malfoy gave a grimace that was so fake, I could have seen it used better by a four year old who got his hand hit for digging in the cookie jar. He turned to Crabbe and winked at him when Pansy had turned to whisper to Millicent.

"Ugh, idiot," I whispered, feeling my face warm up uncomfortably. It was almost humiliating the way he treated girls like that – did he really think he would get what he wanted? We were thirteen, we had morals...

Well, most of us did, anyway.

"Settle down, settle down," Professor Snape's voice quieted the group again. Apparently everyone was interested in Malfoy's great return.

I turned behind me to Harry and Ron, scowling with the two of them. Snape walked over to my desk, glaring over Theodore so that I could tell he was warning me not to make a scene. I frowned a little bit more – I was very displeased with this entire situation.

"Sir," Malfoy called, taking Snape's attention from me. "Sir, I'll need help cutting up the daisy roots, because of my arm-"

"Weasley, cut up Malfoy's roots for him," Snape didn't even pause or consider before he ordered Ron about, though his eyes did flicker to me. I was sure to make it obvious how much I disliked the favouritism for my least favourite housemate.

Ron spluttered for a moment before Malfoy turned in his seat, looking past where I was to where Ron sat directly behind me and giving him a victorious smirk.

"There's nothing wrong with your arm," Ron hissed to him.

"Weasley, you heard Professor Snape; cut up these roots."

I hissed as he made a scene about trying to grab the roots and pass them to Ron, I took them from him harshly and shoved them toward Ron, checking on my own potion which, of course, was brewing perfectly. Theodore had asked if he could take the reins on this Shrinking Solution, which I was fine with letting him do, though I still couldn't help being over-observant thanks to my perfectionism in this class.

Being a genius can be such a curse.

"Professor," Malfoy drawled, looking past me to Ron again. "Weasley's mutilating my roots, sir."

Snape came up behind me, taking a long look at the roots that Ron had hastily cut. It was true, they were a terrible job, but they still would have worked in the potion if you would have used an extra half cup more milkweed at the end of the potion with an added two stir rotation clockwise...

See? Curse.

"Change roots with Malfoy, Weasley." Snape may have been my favourite, but he really didn't show _any _mercy...then again, it was half of what I liked about him.

"But sir-"

"Now." Snape seemed satisfied as he saw Ron pull up his cutting board and so he walked away, before he could do that, I took the cutting board from him.

"Here," I switched cutting boards, giving it to Ron and putting our own daisy roots on Malfoy's table in front of us, considering they were cut perfectly.

"At least I knew how to fix a dodgy mistake like ill-cut roots," I said to Malfoy darkly. "If you had any _real _talent in the class, you'd be able to work circles around an injured arm – particularly when it isn't _actually _injured."

Malfoy pursed his lips, not breaking eye contact with me.

"And sir, I'll need this shrivelfig skinned," when he saw my eyes widen angrily, he began shaking with laughter. What. An. Arse.

"Potter, you can skin Malfoy's shrivelfig," Snape growled, stopping at the table behind me, likely to glare at Harry. I sighed, I could almost feel the rage boiling off my brother.

"Right," I ground through my teeth again, reaching over the table and past Malfoy to grab his shrivelfig from off his table. When I pulled back I purposely avoided eye contact even when I heard Snape hum lowly.

"I meant _mister_ Potter," he said pointedly. I frowned.

"Well, you didn't really specify, did you? Besides, I can do it better," Snape just frowned at me. "If you really want fewer ruined potions in this class, professor, I suggest you don't have them made by enemies. We don't need any more explosions," as if on instinct, all of us looked over to place a wary eye on Seamus Finnegan's potion, which he looked very hectic over. I just hoped he wouldn't make anything explode today, I was wearing my good shoes.

Seamus Finnegan had grown cuter over this past summer. He looked much more grown up now that his cheeks were starting to hollow out and this entire first week back from holidays he'd been sending me these little grins that I couldn't quite decode...it was both nice and frustrating not being able to understand what those little grins meant.

I saw Malfoy turn back to look at me, his eyes blazing and glaring through me as I turned my head again to hide my flushed cheeks. It's not like I really understood _why _I was flushed, I think it had something to do with remembering the way Finnegan smiled at me. Or maybe it could be because the blonde's eyes were drilling through my skin as if I'd done something to personally offend him – which I hadn't...yet...today.

When I risked a glance up, Malfoy looked furious. Maybe it wasn't that I'd personally offended him, maybe it was simply that I was not the one he wanted skinning his shrivelfig. I couldn't think of anything else beside our mutual hatred that warranted such a dark stare. Snape looked between the two of us suspiciously, apparently he didn't trust me to skin it right or he worried if he turned his back we'd hex each other. Which, I guess was a fair assumption...even though both my enemy and my favourite professor still kept awkwardly glaring at me as I did my job – flawlessly. Not that there wasn't pressure on it.

As I went to place his shrivelfig back, Malfoy watched me the whole way. It was awkward, being so close to the git and having him stare at me the entire time. I turned my face toward him, feeling awkward when I could see the tips of our noses so close.

"What?" I snapped.

"Good job, Potter."

I frowned, going back into my seat and giving him a glare as I instructed Theodore to put in the shrivelfig he had just taken the time to skin. Even though I had told Nott that he could do the potion, I couldn't help but tell him how to out of my annoyance.

"Seen your pal Hagrid lately?" Malfoy waited for Snape to leave before striking up an argument. Good choice, he probably knew that if anyone could convince Snape to punish him, it was me.

"None of your business," Ron shot back with a glare.

"I'm afraid he won't be a teacher much longer," Malfoy sighed as if he were actually upset by the idea. "Father's not very happy about my injury-"

"I'm not surprised," I said simply. There was a moment it looked like he actually believed I was taking his side. Moron. "I mean, I was upset when I found out it wasn't life threatening, too."

Ron smiled a bit at me before nodding to Malfoy. "Exactly, keep talking, Malfoy, and I'll give you a real injury."

"See, he's complained to the school governors. And to the Ministry of Magic. Father's got a lot of influence, you know," his eyes flickered to me and I rolled my eyes. His father's blood-money-bribed-contacts were not impressive to me. "And a lasting injury like this? Who knows if my arm'll ever be the same again?"

"So that's why you're putting it on," Harry hissed. "To try and get Hagrid fired."

"Well," Malfoy leaned forward, over top of my work station. I felt the need to curl away from him when he was so close again but instead I held my ground as he smirked at me – I didn't want him to feel like he was at all intimidating. "Partly, Potter. But there are other benefits too." He raised his voice. "Weasley, slice my caterpillars for me."

While Ron got onto starting on his caterpillars, Neville on the other side of the room looked close to tears while Snape leaned over him.

"Orange, Longbottom," Snape sighed, picking some up in a ladle so that others around him could see the neon orange it had turned.

Oh, Neville; he'd put in two cat spleens...

"Orange. Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours? Didn't you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one cat spleen was needed?" Point for Audrey. "Didn't I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice?" I guess that it was a runny liquid instead of thick like corn starch. "What do I have to do to make you understand, Longbottom?"

Neville was shaking now, his face pink as he tried not to think of all the students that were staring at him. Sometimes Snape could be _so_ cruel and if Neville didn't look about to cry and he were doing it to someone like Parkinson, I'd really enjoy the show. Right now I felt near guilty.

"Please, sir," Hermione began, "please, I could help Neville put it right-"

So could I, but that wouldn't learn him anything.

"I don't remember asking you to show off, Miss Granger." And another point for Snape. See, as cruel as he was he was still logical. Snape was right: Neville had still done the potion wrong the first time, meaning if he were to start again he would not know how to do it right from the beginning and he would likely have to mess up so he could find his place back to the steps that Hermione would teach him. It's like baking two cakes so that you can eat one. Though even I was upset with Snape: Neville shouldn't have been humiliated in front of the entire class.

"Longbottom, at the end of this lesson we will feed a few drops of this potion to your toad and see what happens. Perhaps that will encourage you to do it properly." I opened my mouth to object, I knew exactly what would happen if that orange potion touched his toad and it was not something that Trevor deserved. Snape, knowingly, sent me a glare to silence me.

"Help me," Neville whispered to Hermione. I waved my hand when Snape's back was turned.

"Don't fix the potion," I hissed. Hermione looked shocked.

"But Trevor-"

"Neutralize it instead, Snape will know if you fix it," I whispered, turning my eyes toward my potions kit. Snape was walking in our direction again so I subtly placed down the number three with my fingers against the desk. Out of the corner of my eye both Hermione and Neville nodded very slightly.

Snape looked toward me suspiciously, I swear the man can read my mind sometimes, but he continued on his way and as his back turned to me I picked up a porcupine quill and showed the number three again. Hermione was quick to toss them into the cauldron, watching as slowly bubbled into a murky brown – both of us knew that this was still a toxic potion. You could tell by the sharp smell. Neville looked at me hopelessly. I held up my hand a moment to calm him down as Snape walked by us again.

With another urgent movement I held up the number two and grabbed hold of a newt tail from my kit. Neville nodded, throwing two in and watching it as it turned a lavender...well, it wasn't a right potion but at least his frog, Trevor, wouldn't be put through a poisoning.

"Well done, Audrey," Harry whispered from behind me. I smirked back at him, seeing that Malfoy had a large scowl on his face as Seamus leaned forward.

"Good job, Audrey."

"Thanks," I grinned lightly, trying unsuccessfully to stop my cheeks from burning. He was giving me that smile again, the one that made me blush. It was such a genuine smile – you didn't see things like that down in the Slytherin common room...

"So," Seamus started slowly looking at the group of us all huddled up. "Have you heard? _Daily_ _Prophet_ this morning – they reckon Sirius Black's been sighted."

My blood froze. I remembered seeing the cackle in his mug-shot that littered the walls of Diagon Alley – the man was clearly insane. He'd looked so pleased being convicted of murder that it made me feel nervous just thinking about him.

"Where?"

"Not too far from here," Seamus looked toward me and frowned, seeing that I was nervous. "Oh, don't worry about it, Drea. It was a muggle who saw him. 'Course, she didn't really understand. The Muggles just think he's an ordinary criminal, don't they? So she phoned the telephone hot line. By the time the Ministry of Magic got there, he was gone."

"If you're trying to comfort me, you're doing a horrid job," I told him with another frown.

"Sorry," he blushed. "You don't have anything to worry about though, Audrey. They wouldn't let anything get to you here, Hogwarts is perfectly safe. Besides, what'd he want with us? We're just kids. I expect he's after someone from his past, wouldn't you?"

"I guess," I sighed. "There's just something about him that..." ugh, even thinking about it now made my head start to pound. Something about the way that man was mentioned brought on headaches and sent up red flags. There was something missing about the story, that was obvious, but I had a horrid feeling – a very clear instinct that I couldn't think to ignore – that told me it had something to do directly with _me._ I was getting another horrible headache that I would need to fix soon – Trelawney had told me I should try meditating. I told her I would rather _medicating._ She didn't like my sass.

"Thinking of trying to catch Black single-handed, Potter?" Malfoy drawled, his eyes maliciously clashing with my brother's as he leaned across my table again.

"Do you have _any _understanding of personal space?" I pulled my seat father away thanks to how close he now was again, but he only responded with one of his smirks. Git.

"Yeah, that's right," Harry sneered to both Malfoy's comment and my own towards him – Harry never liked how Malfoy treated me, particularly after the events of last year when Malfoy had hounded me romantically until I'd tried to castrate him – sadly unsuccessfully. But even after all those painful memories for him and Harry's hisses mixed with my glares, Malfoy looked far too smug for this to be a simple taunting. No, there was something that he was planning and by the way his eyes flickered to me, he expected me to figure it out sooner rather than later.

"Of course, if it was me I'd have done something before now," Malfoy smirked again. "I wouldn't be in school like a good boy, I'd be out there looking for him."

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" Ron asked with a growl.

"Don't you know, Potter?" Malfoy's eyes narrowed for a moment as he looked between my brother and I before they raised almost mockingly. "Don't either of you know?"

"Know what?" Harry asked with a sneer.

"That you're a git?" I asked. "I've always known _that._"

But Malfoy wasn't insulted. Instead of being insulted, Malfoy let out a low laugh that was so condescending it almost made me feel self conscious.

"Maybe you'd rather not risk your neck," he shrugged, leaning away from us a bit. "Want to leave it to the Dementors, do you? But if it was me, I'd want revenge. I'd hunt him down myself."

"Hunt down Sirius Black for _what_? Are you-" I began, but just as I did Snape seemed to materialize right at the side of our table.

"You should have finished adding your ingredients by now," Snape said, looking over at everyone's potions to test the colour. "This potion needs to stew before it can be drunk, so clear away while it simmers and then we'll test Longbottom's..."

Neville was shaking thanks to his nerves again. He caught my eye nervously, trying to be reassured. I nodded my head slightly. He would be okay, that potion wouldn't do anything bad now but Crabbe and Goyle laughed anyway. What idiots. As if their potion was...no, their potions were a green, not blue like they should have been. They'd never get potions right either. I sighed as I helped Theodore pack up.

"What did Malfoy mean, Audrey?" Harry asked me as we were washing our hands. "What was that about revenge on Black? He hasn't done anything to me or us yet..."

"Who knows," I sighed. "But I wouldn't worry. Malfoy likes to rile you up, Harry, and you always rise to the occasion."

"That's not true-"

"Yes, it is." I said with a roll of my eyes. "Don't blame you, right foul git he is-" Malfoy scowled as I passed him, making sure that he heard what I had to say. "But he doesn't know anything. Don't think too much on it, you'll just give him what he wants."

As we all gathered around like Snape had asked us, I saw that Neville's potion had turned just a bit darker lavender than it had been and it was not actually that different of a colour next to our stewing Shrinking Solutions.

"-watch what happens to Longbottom's toad," Snape continued. "If he has managed to produce a Shrinking Solution, it will shrink to a tadpole. If, as I don't doubt, he has done it wrong, his toad is likely to be poisoned."

Most people, who had not seen my instructions to Neville, looked terrified for him. Even Neville himself was sweating out his nerves – it was insulting he had so little faith in my skills. Snape was harsh when he picked up Trevor the toad and trickled a few drops of the lavender concoction down the toad's throat...

There was a hush that fell over the class as we all waited, waited for a shiver or the toad to go limp, even for him to disappear...but nothing happened. At least, not until Trevor hopped out of Snape's hand and back into Neville's chest.

Just as everyone from his house let out a breath of fresh air, even as Snape turned on Hermione. "Five points from Gryffindor. I told you not to help him, Miss Granger. Class dismissed."

"But-" Hermione gave a look to me and I shrugged my shoulders. If he wanted to throw her under the bus, that was her problem. I'd already had detention with him this week and I did not plan to extend it just for being soft hearted. Or at least relatively soft hearted.

I joined the throng of students grabbing their bags and filing to get out of the door. Theodore and Daphne were talking animatedly, he seemed to be convincing her that saving the toad was not actually Neville's doing and she seemed annoyed, as always, that it had been mine.

"I know that was you, Miss Potter," Snape hissed at me quietly, sweeping past me without actually meeting my eyes. I didn't even try to hide my smile as I started to laugh.

"Of course it was, isn't it always?" I called back to him, not caring if the other students heard – they wouldn't realize I was talking ot him anyway thanks to his back facing me. Just as I was squeezing out the door I felt myself be knocked nearly clean off my feet by someone connecting harshly with my shoulder. When I looked back, the grey eyes of Malevolent Malfoy seemed amused by my fall.

That bastard had hit me with his shoulder!

"You're such a bloody fake," I growled at him, going toward the book bag that had scattered across the ground past him. Bending and reaching down with his 'injured' arm, Malfoy picked up the rucksack and handed it to me with a smirk.

"Never, Potter. Not in front of _you_."

And even though he said it mockingly, I kind of had to acknowledge that he wasn't lying with a smirk. One he returned to me cheekily as he walked away. It was true: Draco Malfoy really didn't lie to me. It was all thanks to him not needing to. After all, we both knew I'd always hate him and that damned smirk anyway.

* * *

**Based off of my story **_Green Eyed Monster_**.**

**I do not own the Harry Potter universe or its characters. I do own Audrey Potter, her ridiculously vivid potion-making skills, and her wicked nicknames. **

**Thanks go out to **_xXMizz Alec VolturiXx_**, **_Angel of the Night Watchers_**, and **_Dustfinger's cheering section _**for their reviews.**

**Enjoy the flashbacks and please review :)**


	4. September 6th, 1991

September 6th, 1991

Severus Snape had always been a strange man. People who knew him would never deny it and the others who whispered about it would have been right. But even now after everything the man had gone through, with everything he had sacrificed, with everything he had _lost..._he had never felt as torn as he felt now. How could he feel anything but vexatious knowing that Lily Potter's daughter looked exactly like her?

Hearing the other professors talk about the Potters was painful; and they always talked about the Potters. The Potters were the latest craze, worse than trends of music or hairstyles, something that was much more interesting than a book or clothes - because they were _heroes. _Harry Potter, the pride and saviour of the wizarding world, seemed to be nothing exceptional. He couldn't do spells without effort and he hadn't read forward in his books enough to learn the incantations for them. As for the girl, _Audrey_, she seemed to fair even worse in her studies this first week in classes. Apparently her spells were completely misdirected and her wand often misfired – and that was not at all like Lily. Lily was a perfectionist, particularly with charms whereas apparently her daughter had already stabbed her feather threw a desk.

She was unlike Lily in other ways as well, the most noticeable being her induction into the Slytherin House. Lily had never had any of the traits of a Slytherin; as smart as she could be she was never cunning, as much as she liked her freedom she was never sly, as much as she observed she was never calculating...but the look that would sometimes pass through her daughters eyes – _Lily's _eyes – was almost terrifying to the stern, bitter man. The look was so familiar, so _forsaken_, that all Severus Snape could wonder was if that's how he, himself, had looked when he was that age. Was that how he had looked when he had been separated from his best friend, just as the girl had been separated from her brother? A brother who the world saw as so much better, who seemed so much more _good_, who somehow seemed so much more _important_. Lily had never seemedthose things because Lily had _been_ those things, and Severus Snape wondered if his eyes had looked just like that when he had been deemed unworthy and unequal to his own best friend.

Today was the first day he would get to experience the 'joy' that was the Potter twins. He had watched them during breakfast, as he had watched them every meal, and acknowledged their friend circles and enemies. While the boy had ganged up with Gryffindor favourites like Longbottom, Weasley, and a muggle born he had not met, it seemed that he had already made himself an enemy. Yes, it seemed that Draco Malfoy, the boy Severus Snape himself had helped to raise and tutor, was the enemy of Harry Potter and trying with increasing determination to be close to the boy's twin sister.

Audrey Potter had ganged up with Daphne Greengrass who was friends with Pansy Parkinson – the very girl that seemed to have become Audrey's House nemesis. The day before she had started to grow a little fonder and make some sort of friendship with Theodore Nott, a quiet boy who seemed amused by Audrey's more go-get-'em attitude. The twins had a strange mix of allies.

He left breakfast early, as he always did, to prepare for class. He had not been surprised by his earlier casing of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws – they were well read and had done their research before their first class. It was the same with those students every year, save for the odd idiot or the _extremely _rare intellectual.

Slytherins and Gryffindors were always more insulting.

The class started to fill in slowly, Harry Potter sure to sit in the back and Audrey Potter trying to drag her friend toward the front – though Greengrass, the bossy little thing she seemed to be, refused to sit any closer than the third row of desks.

Snape began with roll call, unable to stop himself from meeting the emerald eyes of Audrey Potter when he called her name. Harry Potter, who looked just like his father, was easy to pick out of a crowd and he couldn't help himself from commenting on it.

"Ah, yes," he sneered when Harry announced himself. "Harry Potter. Our new _celebrity._"

Some of the Slytherins that Potter had made rivals with sniggered. They must have known what to expect thanks to Potter's new placement in Gryffindor House - Snape was always reliably cruel to the whole of Gryffindor House. Snape's eyes flickered to the girl – _Lily's _girl – who lowered herself in her seat.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," Snape began, unable to mock the boy any more now that he saw how uncomfortable it made the girl. It was an unnecessary tug in his chest that made him feel guilt for the girl who quite clearly was _nothing _like her predecessor, no matter how alike they may look. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Silence followed his speech, as it always did. In front of him, the mirror image of Lily Potter looked just as amazed as her mother had, once upon a time, during the first speech they had sat through. It was like looking into his own past and it made him feel sick...and furious.

"Potter!" Snape said suddenly, making both the boy and girl across the room from one another jump, but his eyes looked down at the boy darkly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Neither Potter moved, neither of them knew the answer, even if the girl was at least looking at her potions book in front of her nervously, reading to search for the answer. It was nice, seeing that at least _one _of them had a brain – he had expected less considering the past of their father: an imbecile who had not only passed on his looks and despicable personality, but had even spread his incompetence onto another generation.

"I don't know, sir," the boy was quiet, his voice nervous. It made Snape sneer at him - his father would not have known the answer either, but he would have made a scene. Lily would have known the answer, but she would have sounded just like he did...it was an upsetting realization.

"Tut, tut – clearly fame isn't everything." Snape's eyes glazed over the class for a moment, before they found the boy again. "Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"I don't know, sir," the boy said again.

"Pity," Snape relished in the humiliation of the boy, even if he had trouble looking him in the eyes when he was so embarrassed. His gaze turned toward the redhead near the front of the room, the girl with Lily's face and what must have been her father's craving for attention. "You, _Miss_ Potter, do you know where I would find a bezoar?"

Snape had almost sneered the name..._Potter. _Yes, that was not something to be forgotten – these two were _Potters_. And he hated the Potters. Lily Evans had been one person, but she had turned into something untouchable, something completely unfathomable when she had become Lily _Potter_. His blood burned just from the idea while the girl, the girl who looked like _her_, gave a defiant glare he had never seen Lily Evans grant the worst of her enemies.

"Bezoars come from goat stomachs," she said in a voice that was not as gentle as he always pictured it would have been. No, her voice was lower, it held more clout. She was confident, too, closer towards arrogance than Lily had ever been and, sadly, she was absolutely right. "They protect from poisons."

"Well," he said after a moment. "At least one of you thought to open a book before coming. Let's try again, Mr Potter – what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"I don't know," Harry said quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

"A point will be taken for your cheek, Potter. Now let's ask a Slytherin, first," he turned around toward the redhead again, her face set and gaze unwavering. "Miss Potter, what about you?"

Her eyes flickered to Greengrass momentarily, the girl who seemed to be a friend without the friendship, who purposely avoided the eyes of Potter. "Monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"Are you hard of hearing, _Miss_ Potter?"

Her face flushed, another glimpse of how much she could look like her mother and yet, the dark look in her eyes only made her seem so much more different. He watched as her nose wrinkled in a familiar way that made his breath hitch painfully while she tried to answer him calmly.

"No, sir," her voice had lowered even more bitterly. It made his eyebrow raise. "I just – aren't they the same plant, but usually called asonite?"

"Aconite," Snape corrected, giving a frown. Her mother would have gotten that right, too...but it was a lucky guess. No _Potter _could ever be good at potions, even if their mother had been Lily Evans. "Well, besides your poor pronunciation, you seem to have some general knowledge, Potter. But knowledge is not equivalent to skill...well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

The class continued on through the double placement, Snape observing and testing their skills as he always did. Of course those who were raised in wizarding society were generally more knowledgeable than others because they had an idea as to what was being asked of them. Draco Malfoy, his student years before he began Hogwarts, was well rehearsed in the boil cure he was making them brew. There were other surprises: Hermione Granger, a Gryffindor who was technical and looked to have already memorized the potion and Theodore Nott , who was also notably advanced in his technical breakdown of the instructions.

"Audrey, no, it says to stew the horned slugs _before _putting in the nettles!" Greengrass had been trying to keep her voice down, but no warning about mucking up a potion could ever escape Snape's attention. He quickly turned toward the duo with narrowed eyes.

"Miss Potter," he said, watching as she placed half of the dried nettles into the boiling cauldron. "I see you feel yourself above the rules everyone else is following."

"No, sir," she gritted out quickly, hiding behind her hair as she looked through her potions kit. "I am not better than the rules, I just like finding loopholes."

"Loopholes?" he repeated with a skeptical frown. "You think that there are loopholes to an art like potion making?"

"That may have been the wrong word," she said carefully. "Potion making _is_ an art, but I don't like doing things like everyone else. I think differently."

"'You think differently'?"

"Well," she fidgeted a bit before grabbing something out of her partner's hand, Snape watched as she dropped in two porcupine quills. "I read through all of the potions ingredients, their uses and their relative potions in our textbooks and I started noticing patterns. And patterns make more sense to me than instructions. When the potion I made the other day worked out I knew that I had caught onto the right pattern...and I hadn't followed any instructions."

"What 'patterns' did you follow for which potion?" Snape asked carefully.

"Er-" she sent a glance to Daphne who made a hiss at the back of her throat to try and silence the Potter twin. "It was a sleeping draught, sir. Just a basic one. I just get how things...mesh."

"Mesh," he repeated again, watching as she dropped in the rest of the dried nettles and told Daphne to take it off the flame, Greengrass almost burnt herself in the process. Once the bubbles stopped flowing to the top of the cauldron, Potter put in the other half of the horned slug and the remainder of the porcupine quills. Snape watched with a depressing satisfaction as the potion settled with a ripple that fed into ripples of the proper orange of the finished potion.

Audrey Potter looked up to him with pride, her eyes boring into him a little less than innocently, though the smugness behind it was something that he had never seen in Lily's eyes before. It reminded him again, that she may look like Lily, but Lily was gone and she was never coming back. In her stead was this girl, a girl who may have been good at potions like her mother and who may look like her mother, but she was not her mother. She was different, because Audrey Potter had to do something that Lily had never been victim to...Audrey Potter had something to prove.

* * *

Halloween fell quickly at Hogwarts, though the time had not gone as speedily. Severus Snape had not been prepared for what the Potter twins would bring with them to the school: apparently Harry Potter was great with spell work, but Snape had not seen such greatness within the potions classroom. Audrey Potter was apparently not getting any better with her spell work, whereas her potions were devastatingly incomparable. She was finding patterns in potions ingredients that he had not found until he was a later teen.

The girl that looked like Lily thought unlike anyone he had ever met. She had an advanced knowledge of potions ingredients – herbs or animal parts – and knew how exactly how each and every component would chemically react to another. She understood what would dissolve, what would coagulate, and what would neutralize; it was a sixth sense towards potion making that he had never seen from a student, besides maybe himself.

In the past few weeks of mid to late October, however, he had gotten the unfortunate pleasure to encounter the _other _side of Audrey Potter. Thanks to her growing enmity with Pansy Parkinson, the girl had been spending multiple nights in detention with him – which would include tonight after the Halloween feast. It had been hard, punishing someone who looked just like Lily Evans, but when he began to witness her growing mischievous side and budding friendship with the infamous Weasley twins, he realized that she may have been more like her father than he would have feared, so he kept her safely out of the public eye and away from the things creeping behind the doors of Hogwarts this year.

The feast was as it always looked: full of food and candy, live bats fluttering between the enchanted black clouds that hung low from the ceiling, the candles in the faced pumpkins flickering seasonally. Snape's eyes flickered between the two twins, as they usually did. Harry Potter; the boy who seemed to constantly look for trouble in Forbidden areas of the school and grounds. And his sister, Audrey Potter; the girl who seemed to constantly _cause _trouble thanks to her striving for other people to consider her as seriously as her other Slytherin counterparts.

Harry Potter was eating and talking to his immature and untalented friends, hearing gossip and being childish as usual. Audrey Potter was laughing with Nott while Greengrass seemed to be upset with her again. Both of them seemed to be laughing at some insult to Draco Malfoy – who was still continuing to attempt a friendship with her.

He was worse than James had been to Lily...and yet it was horribly reminiscent of himself.

It was strange, looking at the two of them. It was like looking in a mirror, seeing someone known to privileged like Malfoy while he worked to get to a girl that came from nothing and was still so much _more _than he was. The Potter Girl thought in different ways, felt in ways that Malfoy had never been - and probably would never be - able, and she had a strange loyalty that most Slytherins couldn't find. It made her stick out like a sore thumb.

Still, Audrey Potter hadn't yet proved whatever it was she was felt the need to, which could be seen by the amount of detentions she had landed herself in, as well as the bitterness she seemed to carry on her shoulders.

Not even Snape looked up to notice when the doors to the Great Hall opened: students late for the feast was not something uncommon or extraordinary, but his attention was grabbed quickly when Quirinus Quirrel came stumbling into the middle of the room. The man's turban was askew and terror rang from across his face and behind his eyes - it nearly looked genuine. Quirrel all but demanded attention when he took the time to reach the Headmaster, slumping against the table in front of all of the teachers.

"Troll," Quirrel gasped, loudly enough to fill the entire hall. "In the dungeons – thought you ought to know."

And then he fainted.

A cacophony of sound started to tremble the entire Great Hall. The silverware vibrated on the tables and the glass windows shivered against the screams and fear that resonated throughout the entire room. The students scrambling around them were in an uproar, the only calm coming from the purple sparks Dumbledore released to silence the group.

"Prefects," he said calmly, "lead your Houses back to their dormitories immediately."

The prefects, or _most_ of the prefects, came to life in that moment and grabbed the attention of the students to bring them to order. Snape watched them go, he watched while they brought Quirinus 'back to consciousness' who said that he wanted to go on a hunt for the escaped troll...but Severus new better immediately. Severus knew what Quirrel really wanted.

Running full tilt, pushing past students and legging up the staircases that people seemed to be avoiding - probably because they also led to the dungeons, Snape ran and reached the third floor corridor. He knew what to expect, he expected another attempt at a break in and Snape was ready to head off the burglar.

Quirrel – Quirrel had surrendered himself to a darker version of what could have been. The little man had been so afraid of life, but now he was trying to resurrect something that had long since been dead and gone. He was making a mistake, but it was not a mistake that Snape would let Quirrel get away with. He was not bewitched, he was not being threatened by someone who was gone, Quirrel was _desperate. _And Snape knew, from experience, that it was the desperate men who would do the most dangerous of things.

Quirrel was nowhere in sight of the third floor room where Snape stood. He was so ready to finally be able to prove the man's real intentions, but he was starting to worry that perhaps he had been too late. Could Quirrel have outran him to get to the door - was he just waiting outside the door to meet someone who had already gone through it?

Even if he hadn't, there would be no harm in going in to ensure that the stone was safe. Who wouldn't want to ensure that the Elixir of Life was safe...and if he got a glimpse at the allusive Mirror of Erised again, he wouldn't complain.

It was always nice to see Lily again.

Snape pulled open the door with new found vigor, pulling the heavy wood and stepping through to come face to face with a vicious looking Cerebus. Each of its three furry heads stared at Snape reproachfully before they started to bark, the four legs tearing toward him with teeth snapping.

"_Immobulous!_" he shot at the creature, but not before one of the dog heads got in a snap to his leg, tearing at his skin and tendons as he tried to shake Snape until he could no longer move. Snape, breathing heavily through the pain, tried again. "_Petrificus Totalus!_"

The dog, or dog_s_, froze and he made quick work of wrenching himself out of their jaws. His leg was wounded, but it was nothing that a little Essence of Dittany wouldn't close. He may limp for a while, but it would just be a reminder to Quirrel that he had waited for him, that he had known...

Closing the door behind him and letting the three-headed dog wake up to protect the trap door again, Snape saw the turban of the suspected man running down the stairs again – he must have heard Snape's spells while he had tried entering and gone running.

Snape was not ready to let this go yet, it had taken him two months to be able to prove the stuttering fool's intentions and he wasn't about to let him get away on a technicality like 'he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time'. Following the man down the stairs they both stopped when they were bombarded by the sound of screams and thumps that shook the floor – the troll was with them on the first floor.

Following Quirrel, who took off running again, the two men almost ran headfirst into Professor McGonagall, who was out of breath and clutching her wand.

"Oh, thank heavens!" she said, looking at the two of them. "It's coming from in here, come..."

But when they entered the first-floor ladies toilets, they were met with a sight that they did not expect. The room was destroyed, an obvious statement from the troll that lay in the middle of the room. Water was flying into the air with a hiss and pooling on the floor at their feet, the stalls had been crushed and the sinks had been shattered and in the middle of all the mess were four students. One could guess Severus Snape's shock when he saw three drenched Gryffindors and a very pale Slytherin. The teachers moved quickly, checking on the status of the troll sprawled against the tile and watching as Weasley pulled up a soaked and breathless Granger while Potter pulled up his drenched and terrified twin.

Snape bent overtop of the troll, examining the ugly and unconscious humanoid for signs that it was still alive to try and retrieve memories from later as well as checking on how long it would stay out cold. To the side Severus could see _the_ _girl_ moving around the room carefully with a shake to her steps that shattered the confident image she always wore.

"H-Harry, I-"

"You're alright, come on, let's get out of the puddles..." he said quietly, pulling his sister away.

"I didn't mean t-to-"

"You did great, come on, we'll figure out what happened later. Let's get you out of the water."

"What on earth were you thinking?" Professor McGonagall hissed when Potter had placed his sister in line with his friends and he. Still she shook, her emerald eyes darting from side to side of the wrecked bathroom as if something else would come to destroy it. Snape nearly felt sick when he saw the fear - he'd seen that fear in his nightmares for ten long years. He became even more nauseous when his eyes found Quirrel, who was examining Audrey very carefully, and taking in every sign of fear she had. It was not good to have a desperate man looking for a scapegoat like a Potter. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitories?"

Snape sent a dark look to the boy, he knew somehow that it was his fault. He looked just like his father and even though both of the twins seemed to have the man's arrogance, it was the first time he had taken the side of the girl. It was because of the fear, because of the fear that was emanating from the girl, somehow he just knew that someone like her would never play any part in this little cry for attention.

"Please, Professor McGonagall – they were looking for me." It was the bushy brunette, the muggle born with acute technicality in all her classes, who had spoken. Minerva looked shocked, for good reason as the strength in her voice indicated she was lying.

"Miss Granger!"

"I went looking for the troll because I – I thought I could deal with it on my own – you know, because I've read all about them." All three of the students were looking at her with wide eyes. It did not take a genius to know that she was lying for them, Snape just couldn't help but wonder why.

"Hermione-" the girl began slowly, her green eyes flickering to the professors before back to the girl in question.

"If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose, Ron knocked it out with its own club and Audrey..." she stopped speaking, sending a look with furrowed brows to the girl, who had wide eyes and was slowly shaking her head. Snape's eyes narrowed suspiciously...what was it that Miss Potter had done in this mess? "Well, she knew they didn't have time to come and fetch anyone and tried to get me out of harm's way. It was about to finish me off when they arrived."

While the boys and the other girl tried to look composed, Snape thought back to the exchange between Audrey and Hermione – what had happened there? There was a piece of the puzzle that he was missing, something that would explain why a Gryffindor would lie for a Slytherin.

"Well – in that case... " Professor McGonagall began tightly, "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?"

The Know-It-All hung her head. Snape couldn't tell who they were trying to fool – themselves or the professors – because there was no way in hell that the Know-It-All would dare defy the rules. It was a habit of her kind of personality. The Potters, on the other hand, were much more likely. He could see the boy going to hunt down the troll and the girl trying to stop him, anyone could have taken a look at her and known that she would not have let herself be caught in this mess -she was absolutely petrified.

"Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this," Professor McGonagall shook her head at her. "I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their Houses."

Granger looked at the three left in the bathroom before nodding her head and leaving slowly, obviously trying to hear what would happen to her apparent 'saviours'.

"Well, I still say you were lucky...but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll," McGonagall began sternly, her eyes flickering between them. "However, you each win your House five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go."

Potter helped his sister out of the room, waiting to make sure she was alright before the three parted ways by the staircase. They walked slowly, the girl grabbing at her head as if she had hurt it and the boys whispering to one another about something or other. It was while they were watching that Minerva looked at him curiously.

"How did that thing get in here, Severus?"

"I don't know," he lied, his glare falling quickly to Quirrel who was still bent over the troll.

"What do you think she meant?" She continued, her eyes focused on The Potter Girl's back. "What do you think Miss Granger meant when she could not finish her sentence?"

"Who knows, Minerva," Snape tried to sound impassive. "Those Potters are said to be able to do anything."

"Someone sh-should f-follow them b-b-back," Quirrel popped up behind them. "I'd be g-g-glad if someone else c-can dispose of th-th-the troll..."

"I will be following them back, before doing a round of the castle," Snape said pointedly, his dark eyes burning through Quirrel's facade. He could see how annoyed the man was by having to deal with the troll he had let in, but now he would not get the chance to do anymore harm - particularly to the twins.

Snape's eyes darted off to the staircase, where Audrey could no longer be seen. Neither Quirrel nor Minerva decided to argue with him over who would see to Miss Potter's safety, so he didn't feel bad as he went to make sure that she was alright. He couldn't stop himself from _needing_ to. He had never seen the girl break as she had, he had never seen the girl finally throw away the arrogant mask she wore so that people wouldn't realize what she really was.

So no, he couldn't let Audrey Potter get hurt. He couldn't let her walk alone when Quirrel was stalking the halls for another distraction – not now that she finally _did _remind him of his Lily...

* * *

**Based off of my story **_Green Eyed Monster_**, which will returning with the plot of **_Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_** this Friday.  
**

**I do not own the Harry Potter universe or its characters. I do own Audrey Potter, her ridiculously vivid potion-making skills, and her wicked nicknames. **

**Thanks go out to **_xXMizz Alec VolturiXx_**, **_Angel of the Night Watchers_**, and **_Dustfinger's cheering section _**for their thoughts.**

**Enjoy the flashbacks and please review :)**


	5. July 31st, 1991

July 31st, 1991

I couldn't make myself open my eyes when I woke up. If I did, I knew I was going to find out that everything yesterday had just been a dream. There would be no giant man named Hagrid, there would be no Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and I would still locked in my closet; ready for another day of torture...I couldn't go back to that. Not after dreaming it had all gone away.

"Audrey," my brother's voice whispered. I closed my eyes tighter, still gripping hard onto the dream that I'd had the night before. "Audrey...there's an owl."

"An _owl_?" I asked, my eyes opening up immediately. Owls were some of the things that had been in my dream – owls that were delivering letters. Tons and tons of letters, all addressed to my brother and I: letters that I had just gotten to read before I had woken up. I moved to sit up and follow the sound of my brother's voice, but nearly tripped over the heavy coat that was covering me.

It was Hagrid's coat.

My eyes flickered over to the giant man before I could stop them. He was where he'd sat down the night before, asleep on the collapsed sofa. He was still heavily bearded, he was still tall as a house, and he was still _here._

"Drea, the owl," Harry reminded me. I shook myself again, even though my heart was racing in so much excitement I don't think I'd ever been so awake. I quickly ran over to the window, nearly tripping over my own feet when I saw the barn owl pecking at the glass. It had a newspaper in its beak and it looked irritated. I wonder how long it had been there before Harry had woken me up.

I opened the window, which gave a really loud creak. The owl ignored the gross sound while it swooped through the open pane and dropped the yellow newspaper on Hagrid's head. Hagrid didn't even grunt in his sleep. The owl, bristling when the giant ignored him went to peck at Hagrid's coat instead.

"Don't do that," Harry said quickly, moving to shoo the owl away.

"Wait," I interrupted, grabbing at his hand. "I think it's looking for something."

"Hagrid!" Harry said more loudly. The giant man grunted, but didn't say anything I could understand. "Hagrid, there's an owl-"

"Pay 'im," Hagrid mumbled in his sleep. I couldn't tell if he was dream-talking or really telling us something, so I took a step forward and daringly poked at his arm.

"Er – what?" I asked, a little more loudly.

"He wants payin' fer deliverin' the paper. Look in the pockets," that was easier said than done: Hagrid's coat was _made _of pockets. I let Harry put his hand in first and was only more confused when he started pulling out bunches of keys, slug pellets, balls of string, peppermint humbugs, teabags...after a while of teamwork, Harry pulled out some strange looking coins and held them to me.

"Do you think this is it?" He asked me. I shrugged at him, picking up a silver coin and holding it up to the window so I could see more of the worn writing on it. I'd never seen coins like them.

"I guess so. It says 'sickle', I think. How many do we give him?"

"Give him five Knuts," Hagrid answered our conversation with a sleepy yawn.

"Knuts?" Harry asked again, his eyes confused.

"The little bronze ones," I put the silver coin back in Harry's hand and counted out five of the smallest coins. They were little and bronze, just like Hagrid had said. When I had counted them out loud and made it to five, the owl held out his leg. It had a little leather pouch on it – just big enough to hold the coins I had to offer. I smiled at the owl, before placing them in and giving him a smile and a little pat on the wing to let him know I'd done it. The owl hooted before he soared back through the open window – he was out of sight by the time I went to close it.

Hagrid decided that then was a good time to wake up and with a loud yawn and huge stretch, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"Best be off, you two, lots ter do today, gotta get up ter London an' buy all yer stuff fer school."

Harry was still turning over the wizarding coins and looking at them but I gave the giant a large smile, nodding my head and moving to grab the change of old clothes to wear shopping.

"We get to go today?"

"O'course we do," Hagrid laughed back at me. I didn't think my question was that funny, but he seemed to. I wasn't really upset if he would laugh at me, just as long as he took me with him. Harry didn't look as happy though, which stopped me from moving to go get changed. Hagrid, following my line of sight frowned when he saw the look on my brother's face. "Wha's wrong?"

"Um – Hagrid? We haven't got any money – and you heard Uncle Vernon last night...he won't pay for us to go and learn magic."

I couldn't believe just how quickly it could feel like my dreams were popped like a bubble. But apparently this wasn't as big of a problem as we thought, because Hagrid scoffed loudly.

"Don' worry about tha'," Hagrid said shaking his large hand dismissively. "D'yeh think yer parents didn't leave yeh anything?"

"Well..." I said slowly, looking to my brother. If our parents had left us anything, I certainly hadn't seen any sign of it. "I don't know, really..."

"Yeah, if their house was destroyed-" Harry continued, but he was interrupted.

"They didn' keep their gold in the house, boy! Nah, first stop fer us is Gringotts. Wizards' bank. Have a sausage, they're not bad cold – an' I wouldn' say no teh a bit o' yer birthday cake, neither." Once I came back from changing into my clothes, I decided to take a piece of the cake after Hagrid took his own portion – I didn't quite trust the sausages.

Still, I couldn't help wondering what would happen if I spilled icing on myself: these clothes were bad hand-me-downs. Maybe Hagrid would let us take some of the money we got to get some better clothes before we saw more witches and wizards. I didn't want to be seen like I looked now: the shirt was from Dudley when he was seven and the shorts were from one of Aunt Petunia's friends child who was nine. And I'm pretty sure the shorts had been hand-me-downs from someone else before they had reached her, nevertheless me. Did all wizards dress like Hagrid? Because as silly as Hagrid's giant coat looked, I was pretty sure we would still look really shabby.

"So, Wizards have banks ?" I asked, holding my hands out for another bit of cake that my brother was handing back to me.

"Just the one. Gringotts. Run by goblins."

Harry dropped his sausage. I stopped licking the icing off my fingers.

"_Goblins_?"

"Yeah – so yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it, I'll tell yeh that. Never mess with goblins, you two. Gringotts is the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want ter keep safe – 'cept maybe Hogwarts. As a matter o' fact, I gotta visit Gringotts anyway. Fer Dumbledore. Hogwarts business." Hagrid seemed very proud of that. But other than knowing that Hogwarts was the school, I couldn't image what kind of business it would have to do with a bank run by goblins. "He usually gets me ter do important stuff fer him. Fetchin' you – gettin' things from Gringotts – knows he can trust me, see."

I didn't really know why we would be considered important, but I wasn't about to be rude to the man who had finally saved us from the Dursleys and given us our letters. Hagrid gave us five minutes to pack – which was pointless because we didn't have anything we had to pack – before he was stood outside the door of the lighthouse, his arms crossed and smiling.

"Got everythin'? Come on, then."

We nearly stumbled over each other to meet Hagrid out on the big rock outside the lighthouse door. The sky was more clear than it had been in days and the little boat that Uncle Vernon had hired was still there, but it had flooded with water from the storm.

"How did you get here?" Harry began, peering over the side of the rock as I followed his movements.

"Is there another boat? There isn't another boat, is there?" I tagged on, not even trying to see over the edge. I'd be a lot happier if we could stay away from the water. Maybe Hagrid could-

"I flew," Hagrid said simply.

Maybe Hagrid could _fly?_ That was definitely not how I had thought I would finish the thought. Then again, I'm not really sure what else I would have thought: teleported? walked? used a hover-car?

"You flew?" Harry repeated his eyes wide.

"When you say 'flew', do you mean...that...you flew?" I asked lamely. Hagrid let out a chuckle.

"Yeah – but we'll go back in this. Not s'pposed ter use magic now I've got yeh."

Not only was that silly, but it was really disappointing. I mean, he'd already used magic in front of us last night – he'd started a fire and showed my family what a little piggy Dudley really was...I didn't quite understand why he wasn't allowed to use magic now that we were with him and about to be allowed to use it ourselves.

Harry and Hagrid got into the boat first, but neither of them complained about just how slowly I was getting in. Even though I was taking a long time, I was trying to hide my fear – it was my first day with Hagrid and I was not about to look like a scardy-cat in front of him...even if I was ready to scream when a stronger wave than the ones before rocked the boat from side to side a little more roughly. I gripped my brother's arm as tightly as I could, glad that he wasn't about to tell on me. Like he had when we'd come to the lighthouse, he took his free arm and took hold of one of my hands.

"It's okay," Harry whispered quietly. "We have magic to keep you safe from water, now."

"Wha' was tha'?" Hagrid asked, looking up at us. I forced a tight smile and Harry shook his head. Hagrid looked at the water surrounding us and gave a heavy sigh. "Seems a shame ter row, though."

"I can help," Harry offered. "But Audrey can't, really...if that's alright with you?"

Hagrid gave us both another sideways look, like the ones he had given us last night when he'd warned us he wasn't supposed to use magic. Something told me he was about to say something along the same lines as then. His eyes looked closely at my grip on Harry's arm before he nodded slightly.

"If I was ter – er – speed things up a bit, would yeh mind not mentionin' it at Hogwarts?"

"Of course not," I said quickly, eager to get off the boat. "I'm all about the easy way out!"

Hagrid pulled out his pink umbrella once again, tapped it twice on the side of the boat, and with a harsh jerk and a yelp from me we were speeding off toward land, riding through and overtop of currents as if the little dingy boat had a magical motor.

"Why would you be mad to try and rob Gringotts?" Harry asked once he was done examining how the magic was controlling the rowing.

"Spells, enchantments," said Hagrid, seeming completely at ease on the water while he opened the newspaper to read. "They say there's dragons guardin' the high security vaults. And then yeh gotta find yer way – Gringotts is hundreds of miles under London, see. Deep under the Underground. Yeh'd die of hunger tryin' ter get out, even if yeh did manage ter get yer hands on summat."

"I guess no one would ever be that nutters, then," I piped up nervously, still watching the water under us. "To rob Gringotts, I mean. It'd be stupid, right...I mean...if it has dragons?"

"Mm-hmm," Hagrid hummed with a nod behind his paper.

That was kind of a test, I was wondering if he had been joking when he had said something about there being dragons down there...but something told me that he wasn't. Still, I couldn't really think on it for much longer because the boat was still racing toward shore and I was afraid of the sound the waves made when we sliced through them – I've always hated water. I think that's why Uncle Vernon picked the lighthouse: he knew I'd be too afraid to run away like I'd threatened.

"Ministry o' Magic messin' things up as usual," Hagrid muttered quietly, turning a page of his paper.

"There's a Ministry of Magic?" Harry asked quickly. I even opened my eyes to see Hagrid's reaction. He, as always, brushed it off as if it were nothing.

"'Course! They wanted Dumbledore fer Minister, o' course, but he'd never leave Hogwarts, so old Cornelius Fudge got the job. Bungler if ever there was one. So he pelts Dumbledore with owls every morning, askin' fer advice."

"So Dumbledore...he's really smart, then?" I asked.

"Smar'est there is!" Hagrid announced loudly. "Smar'er than the Minister, too."

"But what does a Ministry of Magic do?" Harry asked, leaning a little closer to Hagrid in the boat. I gripped his arm a little tighter, afraid he was going to move away from me or rock the boat.

"Well, their main job is to keep it from the Muggles that there's still witches an' wizards up an' down the country."

"How many witches and wizards are there?" I asked, closing my eyes when we hit a rough wave.

"Lots," Hagrid shrugged. "Just a bit less as many as muggles, I'd guess."

"Then why do we have to keep hidden?" Harry asked with furrowed eyebrows.

"Why?" Hagrid repeated with wide eyes. "Blimey, Harry, everyone'd be wantin' magic solutions to their problems. Nah, we're best left alone."

As soon as Hagrid finished his sentence, the boat bumped gently in to the harbor wall. I let out another yelp and felt my face turn scarlet when I opened my eyes to see Hagrid looking guilty. I guess he'd caught on to the obvious fear I had. He folded up his newspaper and was quick to help me and then my brother up from the boat. I was so happy to be on land I could have flown, myself.

People passing us on the walk to the station stared a lot at the giant man leading us through the town. I didn't really blame them for it – Hagrid was at least nine feet tall and on top of that, he kept pointing at everyday things and loudly saying "See that, Audrey, Harry? Things these Muggles dream up, eh?"

"Hagrid," Harry asked as we jogged to keep up to Hagrid's slow pace, "did you say there are dragons at Gringotts?"

"Dragons like in my storybooks?" I added. "Or were you joking? Or are they differen't? Or-"

"Oh, there're dragons!" He said with a dreamy smile. "Just not sure it's true they're in Gringotts, eh? But crikey, I'd like a dragon."

"You'd like one?" Harry repeated.

"Me too!" I said excited. Hagrid returned my smile, but Harry looked at us like we were mad.

"Wanted one ever since I was a kid," Hagrid elaborated. "Are yeh an animal lover too, Audrey?"

"She doesn't just love animals," Harry explained with a roll of his eyes. "They love her, too. Maybe it's a witch thing?"

"Maybe," Hagrid agreed vaguely. "Ah, here we go."

We had gotten to the station now. There was a train in five minutes that would get us to London. Hagrid had regular bills to pay for it, but since he couldn't understand them I took the time to count out the right fares and Harry took them up to buy the tickets for us.

People continued to stare on the train. Hagrid took up the two seats across from Harry and I and was busying himself by knitting a canary-yellow blanket that I'm sure was supposed to be some sort of clothing for someone or more likely some_thing_.

"Still got yer letter, you two?" Hagrid asked as he counted his stitches. In sync my twin and I pulled our letters from our pockets and flashed them to him with identical grins.

"Good," Hagrid smiled. "There's a list of everything yeh need, there."

I unfolded my letter, even though I had pretty much memorized all the equipment and book titles the night before.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

1. Three sets of plain work robes (_black_)  
2. One plain pointed hat (_black_) for day wear  
3. One pair of protective gloves (_dragon hide or similar_)  
4. One winter cloak (_black, silver fastenings_)

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (_Grade 1_) by _Miranda Goshawk_  
A History of Magic by _Bathilda Bagshot_  
Magical Theory by _Adalbert Waffling_  
A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by _Emeric Switch_  
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by _Phyllida Spore_  
Magical Drafts and Potions by _Arsenius Jigger_  
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by _Newt Scamander_  
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by _Quentin Trimble_

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand  
1 cauldron (_pewter, standard size 2_)  
1 set of glass or crystal phials  
1 telescope set  
1 brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

"Can we buy all this in London?" Harry wondered aloud.

"If yeh know where to go," said Hagrid.

I looked at my brother in wonder – neither of us had ever been to London before, but something told me that it wasn't just down the main streets where we would find everything on this list. Still, once we got of the train Hagrid certainly seemed to know exactly where he was going and he started going about walking the streets, but he had little difficulties like understanding the ticket barrier in the Underground, or escalators and streetlights.

We got everywhere a little more quickly because of how easily Hagrid could part a crowd, though. This was good because both Harry and I were nearly jumping out of our skin with excitement to get there. It was so strange – would everyone look like Hagrid? Would we be able to tell when we made it to the Wizarding Stores? Would we be able to tell what a real broomstick looked like and what a _flying _broomstick looked like? Or were they one in the same – could I make my own broomstick fly?

"This is it," said Hagrid, suddenly stopping and almost making me run into his behind. "The Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous place."

I couldn't understand _why. _The Leaky Cauldron was a dingy, grubby-looking pub. It was a hole-in-the-wall kind of place that I never would have noticed if Hagrid hadn't stopped us at its entrance and people didn't even glance at it as they passed – even with us in their way. Then again, perhaps the Muggles couldn't see it at all?

The Leaky Cauldron was no better on the inside than it was on the out. It was badly lit and smelt of booze and smoke. A table in the corner was taken by some old women drinking sherry – one of which was smoking a really long pipe that reminded me of a didgeridoo. There was an old, balding bartender that was speaking to a man in a top hat and also a woman with very long, dirty nails that was drumming some kind of pattern on the bar. I tried to pick up if it was Morse-code – because I loved patterns so much – but I was distracted by being welcomed.

Each of these people acknowledged Hagrid in some way as we walked into the bar. It seemed even the bartender was a friend, because he reached for a glass asking, "the usual, Hagrid?"

"Can't, Tom," Hagrid said with a proud voice. "I'm on Hogwarts business."

"Good Lord," the bartender began, taking a step forward as his eyes glued onto my brother's face. "Is this – can this be..."

I looked around nervously, noticing that everyone in the entire bar was looking at my brother. The whole room had gone silent enough that I was sure I could hear someone's beer fizzling in their glass.

"Bless my soul," the old bartender whispered. "Harry Potter...what an honour!"

The balding man hurried from behind the bar, nearly stumbling in his rush. I took a step back as he moved through people – including myself – to go forward and grab onto my brother's hand, shaking it a mile per minute.

"Er – Harry? What did you do?" I asked him quietly, over the man's shoulder. I couldn't get an answer though, or if he did, I didn't hear it because I was moved back again when people started moving toward him. The bartender even had _tears_ forming in his eyes.

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back."

_Everyone _was looking at him, coming closer and moving to him as if he were some prize that they all wanted to grab for themselves. I felt claustrophobic just looking at all of them coming closer and I wasn't even the person they were gunning for. I looked to Hagrid, about to ask for some explanation, only to see that he looked proud and...and as if he had _expected _this.

"Doris Crockford, Mr. Potter, can't believe I'm meeting you at last." One of the old witches came forward, pushing the line of people who had gathered around my brother.

"So proud, Mr. Potter, I'm just so proud."

"Always wanted to shake your hand – I'm all of a flutter!"

"Delighted, Mr. Potter, just can't tell you, Diggle's the name, Dedalus Diggle."

"I've seen you before!" I said loudly, gartering some attention to myself when the little man, Dedalus Diggle, let his top hat fall off his head in his excitement. "You bowed to us once in a shop."

"They remember!" Dedalus Diggle cheered, looking around at everyone. "Did you hear that? The Potters remembers me!"

"Potter_s_?" One of the witches repeated.

"Is she the _other _Potter?" The witch with the long nails asked. "The girl – Audrey?"

They knew _my _name, too?

But it was obvious a few of them didn't, because the witches that had been drinking sherry turned to whisper to each other as if they couldn't be noticed and the bartender leaned close to Hagrid and asked something about me, pointing to my...

I slapped my hand over my neck, realizing with a blush that everyone was looking at the mark there. It was quite an ugly thing, I didn't want these people – who somehow knew my brother's name and some who even knew _my _name – to start asking about it. If only Aunt Petunia hadn't cut off all my hair, I'd be able to hide it more easily...

At this point another man made his way up to my brother, he seemed very nervous – nervous enough that one of his eyes was twitching. Hagrid smiled and clapped him on the back excitedly.

"Professor Quirrell!" Hagrid beamed, pointing toward my brother and I. "Harry, Audrey, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts."

"Oh," I said slowly, still feeling ridiculously claustrophobic and confused. "Hello."

"The P-P-Potters," stammered Professor Quirrell, grasping my hand, "c-can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you."

"What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?" Harry asked awkwardly, watching as Quirrell switched from me to eagerly shake his wrist.

"D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts," muttered Professor Quirrell, as looking as if he tasted something foul. "N-not that you n-need it, eh, H-H-Harry? You'll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself."

I briefly wondered if I yelled BOO really loudly, if Professor Quirrell would run away. There was a part of me that really wanted to, even though I decided not to try it in such strange company. But a part of me really wanted to scare off as many people as I could – why were they all moving around my brother? And why did they all know him? And why wasn't I allowed near him, but they could all fight each other to be near him while Hagrid took the time to talk to the bartender.

I couldn't help but become more and more aggravated when I had to wait for another ten minutes before Harry was finally released from the group of barflies so that he could make it back to Hagrid and I.

"Must get on – lots ter buy. Come on, Harry."

The woman who introduced herself as Doris Crockford shook my brother's hand again and the group around him moved, none of them even saying goodbye to Hagrid. Or me.

Hagrid steered us out into a small courtyard just outside of the back exit to the bar, which was walled by trash bins and badly bricked walls. Harry looked over at me, still as lost as I was with the bustle of the bar.

"What just happened in there?" He asked me. I shrugged, shaking my head slightly – but Hagrid only grinned.

"Told yeh, didn't I? Told yeh you was famous, Harry."

"But why isn't Audrey famous?" Hagrid's grin dropped a little bit.

"She is, she is," he said hurriedly, clearing his throat before moving around to avoid eye contact. Hagrid reached through his pockets, likely looking for his umbrella again. "People were excited to see yeh, too, Audrey. Even Professor Quirrell was tremblin' ter meet yeh – mind you, he's usually tremblin'."

"Is he always that nervous?" I asked, looking back toward the door and wondering if he was _really _buying a book on vampires, or if he was saying that just to make fun of us.

"Oh, yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studyin' outta books but then he took a year off ter get some firsthand experience... They say he met vampires in the Black Forest, and there was a nasty bit o' trouble with a hag – never been the same since. Scared of the students, scared of his own subject – now, where's me umbrella?"

When Hagrid had finally found his umbrella, he started meticulously counting the bricks on the wall across from the door to The Leaky Cauldron.

"Three up... two across... " he muttered. "Right, stand back, you two."

He tapped the wall, at the same brick, three times with the point of his umbrella. The brick he had touched quivered and wiggled before a second followed – and then a third and then the rest of the bricks near it began to wriggle and writhe as if they were being tickled. And, like what always happen when you're tickled, the bricks ran away from all the others and it created a wide archway that was large enough for even Hagrid to pass under.

Underneath it was a cobbled street that twisted a turned out of sight, lined with old fashioned shops and people dressed in clothing almost as strange as Hagrid's. There were loads of them, lots of kids our age and near our age, lots of adults pulling kids around from store to store as they tried to stay and look at displays or talk to friends.

"Welcome," Hagrid smiled, "to Diagon Alley."

As we walked forward, a magnetic force pulling us closer to the shops, the archway shrank and clinked the bricks back into place without prompting.

The beautiful day continued through the grime of The Leaky Cauldron and onto the shiny, well-kept shops through the alleyway. It was like the sun was shining on the places we needed to go to buy our school supplies. And all the signs had the strangest names..._Eeylops_, _Florean Fortescue_, _Quidditch_, Gringotts...

"Yeah, you'll be needin' one," Hagrid said, watching as Harry had stuck his face into the Apothecary's window to look at a large pot that looked like a stereotypical cauldron, "but we gotta get yer money first."

The walk to the bank was a thrill. Everywhere I looked there were new things to see – the shop names, the things in the display windows, the people coming in and out, the things those people came in and out with...

I stopped and nearly squealed as we past Eeylops Owl Emporium – there were all kinds of animals here, including animals I had never seen before. Owls, eagles, falcons, cats, kittens and things that seemed to be a mix of those animals that I couldn't name.

Hagrid just laughed at my enthusiasm, watching as I played with the kittens and handing me some pellets to feed to one of the tawny owls in its cage.

When we continued on, I saw children huddled around a display of a broom – apparently it was the fastest model ever. There were books and quills and old parchment like my teacher said that Shakespeare wrote on; telescopes and potion vials and fabric that was cutting itself into strips...

"Gringotts," Hagrid announced. He was pointing toward a white, marble building that towered over all the other shops in the alley. Beside the tall, bronze doors sat red uniformed...people? No. Those were definitely not people...

"That's a goblin," Hagrid said quietly while he walked us up the large steps toward the goblin – it was something right out of a fairytale: short, squat, pointed ears and a pointed beard, beady eyes and long fingers and feet.

As we walked through there was an engraved plaque by the doors which read:

_Enter, stranger, but take heed  
Of what awaits the sin of greed,  
For those who take, but do not earn,  
Must pay most dearly in their turn.  
So if you seek beneath our floors  
A treasure that was never yours,  
Thief, you have been warned, beware  
Of finding more than treasure there._

"Oh, a poem!" I said excitedly, watching as my brother rolled his eyes at me.

"It's a warning, Drea," he whispered back as we walked past the goblin and through the bronze doors.

"Like I said," Hagrid whispered as we walked through the quiet bank that was lined with goblins that seemed hard at work and concentrating. "Yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it."

The goblins were scribbling on ledgers, weighing coins on scales, or examining precious treasures through exaggerated eyeglasses. Hagrid lead us towards one side of the counter, Hagrid cleared his throat loudly to gather the goblin's attention from weighing a chunk of some sort of gold.

"Morning," Hagrid forced a grin to the goblin who did not grin back. "We've come ter take some money outta Mr and Miss Potter's safe."

"You have his key, sir?" The goblin's voice was lower and more scratchy than I had expected it to be – but it was still loud enough to sound eerie. Still, I couldn't help but notice and frown when the Goblin looked straight at my brother and said _his _key. Was the key not for _my _safe, too?

"Got it here somewhere," Hagrid mumbled while he started to pull at the objects in his pockets and emptying them onto the counter in front of the goblin. The goblin wrinkled his nose at some of the more strange objects – particularly the mouldy dog biscuits – before Hagrid finally gave a triumphant cry.

"Got it!" Hagrid beamed, holding up a tiny golden key.

The goblin inspected the golden key very thoroughly before he nodded.

"That seems to be in order."

"Great," I smiled excitedly, the goblin gave me a look – certainly calculating me – but the goblin did not grin back at me. Instead he frowned and let out a bit of a _humph_.

"An' I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," Hagrid told him in a proud, loud voice. "It's about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."

I gave a sideways glance to my brother, looking to him with a frown before the goblin finished reading the letter and nodded.

"Very well," he said, handing the letter back to Hagrid, "I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!"

I don't know why I was surprised that Griphook was another goblin, but he looked much more stern and severe than whichever goblin the three of us had already been speaking with. Once Hagrid had put all his garbage back in his coat, we followed the smaller goblin toward one of the doors leading off to the hall.

"What's the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen?" Harry asked for me, looking at me from the corner of his eye.

"Can't tell yeh that," Hagrid told stiffly. "Very secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore's trusted me. More'n my job's worth ter tell yeh that."

Griphook held the door open for us, but I had a feeling it was more out of obligation than being nice. I was surprised when the marble ended and the thick, dark rock began. There were railway tracks on the floor, the passage around us was lit with flaming torches instead of lights. Griphook whistled to signal a little cart to come rushing toward us. It stopped to have time so that we could climb in – we took a bit longer so we could help Hagrid – before we were off.

The cart moved on its own, Griphook was not controlling where it went and there was no way to remember how many lefts, rights, and underpasses we took to get to our own vault. In fact, it was so confusing that I had to close my eyes when I started to get another of my headaches.

"Audrey?" Harry asked, yelling slightly over the wind that quickly whipped past us. I winced by how loud it sounded to my suddenly sensitive ears.

"I'm okay."

"Headache?"

"Just a little one," I frowned. I could feel that it was growing more and more, the deeper and more confusing the maze of vaults became, but I didn't want one of my stupid headaches ruin today. Not my first day in the Wizarding World.

Instead, I started looking out the side of the speeding cart, hoping that it might be more easily. I could see that there was an underground lake here, stalactites pointing down dangerously, stalagmites growing up to point at us threateningly in case we decided to change our direction when we weren't supposed to.

"I never know," my brother called out, not noticing when I winced again, "what's the difference between a stalagmite and a stalactite?"

"Stalagmite's got an 'm' in it," Hagrid said quickly. "An' don' ask me questions just now, I think I'm gonna be sick."

I couldn't have agreed with him more.

By the time the cart stopped beside a small door in the wall, Hagrid was scrambling out of the cart and had to lean against the wall to stop his knees from shaking. I got out just so that I didn't have to grip the side of the cart and I could push on my skull.

Griphook ignored our discomfort as he climbed out to unlock the big door that was grafted into the rocky wall. Green smoke billowed out from it when the door started to open and I coughed for a moment before it cleared.

I had never seen so much money.

There were mountainsof gold coins. Dozens of separate mounds of silver. And masses of little bronze Knuts. It was like when I used to dream of having so much money I could swim in it – I could swim in this. I could have even made a fort out of all of it, if I stacked it right.

"All yours," Hagrid smiled.

"Harry," I gasped, looking around at the piles as I walked in – I was afraid to touch anything just in case we were about to be told that we had gone to vault seven-thirteen first. "Are we...are we _rich_?"

"I don't know," he whispered back, looking at the piles with wide eyes. "I don't know how to count it..."

"I can help with tha'," Hagrid smiled, bustling forward. "The gold ones are Galleons; seventeen silver Sickles to one Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, it's easy enough."

That did not sound easy at all. Why were they in such random numbers? Seventeen, twenty-nine? How did this compare to Muggle money? Was a Galleon like a pound? But then, would that make a Sickle like ten pence or twenty five? No, that would be a Knut – no, no, there were twenty-nine Knuts to a sickle...which would make how many Knuts to a Galleon?

No. Wizard money was _not _'easy enough'.

"Right, that should be enough fer a couple o' terms, we'll keep the rest safe for yeh both." Hagrid said, walking out of our vault to turn toward Griphook. "Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?"

"One speed only," Griphook said coolly.

One speed only was a lie. Now that we were going to deeper vaults, we were going faster and faster. Which made my headache get worse and worse. And while we kept going faster and faster, the air became more and more chilly. It was like everything was working against me to make this day horrible – first my brother is famous, then everyone ignores me, then I get a headache. I hoped that things wouldn't be this frustrating all the time.

Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole.

"Stand back," Griphook pretty much announced it to himself as Harry and I knew to stay in the cart while Hagrid moved to the side to try and calm his stomach. Griphook moved forward and stroked the door with one of his long nails before the door _melted away_.

It was magical. Literally and not-so-literally _magical._

"If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped in there," Griphook said importantly, suddenly turning into a tour guide.

"How often do you check to see if anyone's inside?" Harry asked.

"About once every ten years," Griphook finally did grin and it was quite a nasty sight.

I couldn't help but let my mind wander to whatever might be in this vault. There wasn't piles of gold that I could see and it didn't have one of the dragons that Hagrid wanted to keep – in fact, the vault looked close to empty. But when he came out, he was tucking a little brown package deep into his coat pocket.

It made me think of what Harry always said when I got angry, or when I would burst the piping through the house: _big things come in little packages._

Particularly if it was kept in vault seven hundred and thirteen.

* * *

"What next?" I asked, trying to sound excited, but I still had a headache and it was getting worse and worse. I knew that I wouldn't have any time to sleep it off like I normally did, but maybe I would find some spell or something in one of the shops to make it better. I knew Hagrid wouldn't do it, because he shouldn't be using magic in public, but maybe I could get a shop owner to do it or con someone to advertize themselves by using me as a guinea pig.

"Can we get some tablets for Audrey?" Harry asked, craning his neck to look up at Hagrid. "She gets headaches sometimes."

"Headaches, eh?" Hagrid asked, making a face before he began digging through his pocket. "I've just the thing...ah – no, not there, 'ere it is!"

From his pocket he pulled out a small vile of a purple liquid. I looked at it nervously.

"Er – Hagrid? What is that?"

"This? Oh, it's a potion," Hagrid explained, wiggling it in his fingers. "It'll help with the pain – tastes like lavender."

"It won't..." I frowned, trying to look at the liquid and see if it showed it was poisonous as if it would show like the poison dumped on Snow White's apple. "...hurt me or anything, will it?"

"O'course not! I wouldn't give yeh somethin' that'd hurt yeh!"

Seeing the insult on Hagrid's face was what made me take it more than having trust in one of many possible vials that was in his pocket. It did taste like lavender like he said it would though, so I had a little bit more trust to put in him...particularly when I felt the potion start to tingle while it battled my headache almost immediately.

"That's amazing!" I gasped. "It's already working!"

"It's not done yet," Hagrid chuckled. My eyes widened, taking tablets back at Privet Drive never worked that fast and it was already working almost as well as those tablets would have. Was he saying that it might take my headache completely away?

"It isn't? How long will it take?"

"Only a little bit," Hagrid smiled. "That's a potion for yeh, great things. Real hard to make, though."

"Will I ever get to try one?" I asked, looking back at the vial really closely. "Can I learn to make this one?"

"Yeh could try askin' ole Snape. He teaches yeh Potions at Hogwarts."

"We get a whole lesson to learn things like this?" I asked excitedly. He laughed.

"Yeh won't be so excited when yeh meet the professor. He's a grump, 'e is...so, now that it's startin' to work, let's get on with it, yeah? Might as well get yer uniforms."

Hagrid began walking us toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. I was excited – I wondered what these school robes would look like – what colour would they be? Red, green, blue, yellow, purple, gray?

As Hagrid held the door open he blushed down at us. "Harry, Audrey, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts."

He still did look green and I knew his pain because I could still feel my headache fighting to overpower the potion I'd taken, so both of us smiled and assured him we would be fine on our own. We walked into the shop, decorated in cloths and fabric of every colour and texture. We were greeted by a small witch with a large smile who was dressed in mauve.

"Hogwarts, dears?" she asked us. "Got the lot here – another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."

And there was another boy in the shop.

He was in the back, holding his arms up as a second witch pinned long, black robes to the proper hem length. He had pale features, with white-blond hair and light eyes that seemed to watch everything around him. There was something about him that didn't look quite normal – but for all I know it might have been that all wizards looked like this, or maybe just because he was cute.

"Hello," the boy said in a very posh, proper accent. "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," Harry responded as he was put up on a stool next to him. The first witch, the woman in mauve, slipped a large, untailored robe over Harry's head and began measuring.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," the boy sounded nearly bored, which was silly – I didn't understand how someone could not be excited that they would finally understand themselves like I felt I did. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow. Oh, hello."

He seemed to have finally noticed that I was sitting and watching both he and my brother. I couldn't help but frown at him – I could notice the cute boy, sure, but he couldn't notice me? Then again, no one in this world had really noticed me before Harry yet, had they? I couldn't stop myself from being frustrated that the cute boy, like so many others, had barely noticed that I was here today. But he had noticed my _brother. _Suddenly, he didn't look so cute at all.

Instead of saying hello to him, I turned away to find a place to sit.

"Have you got your own broom?" The blonde-boy asked, ignoring my shunning to continue interrogating my brother.

"No," Harry said awkwardly.

"Play Quidditch at all?" Was Quidditch a game? I remembered seeing the word at some point on our walk through the alley, but I couldn't remember what it had been near. I'd figured that it was a store of some kind, or one of the strange wizarding names.

"No," Harry said again, frowning slightly.

"I do – Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?" Did we live in individual houses on the school's campus? I don't know if I liked that – what if I had to live with my brother for the whole year? Or worse, what if I _didn't _live with my brother? I didn't want to get upset with someone and burst the house pipes like I did at the Dursleys...was that even normal in this world, to burst pipes and melt things and boil things?

"No," Harry repeated, his face flushing as the woman continued to tailor his robes. He gave me a look, trying to show how uncomfortable he was – but all I could do was shrug as the chatty boy, who favoured my brother like all others, just continued on.

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they?" He asked, but didn't give my brother time to answer the question. "But I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been – imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"Mmm," Harry hummed, looking more and more lost. I couldn't help but snort at my brother, gathering the boy's attention again.

"What about you? You don't _want _to be in Hufflepuff, do you?" His eyes bore into mine and there was a moment when I looked back before I scowled, looking away. I kind of wanted to be in whatever Hufflepuff meant if it meant that he might not be there to bother me and chat up my brother the whole time.

"I didn't think so," the boy smirked, watching as the second witch began putting the finishing touches on his black robes. "I say, look at that man!"

He had pointed out the window – I was shocked that someone who seemed so in tune with everything in the wizarding world could still be surprised, so I turned to look and frowned when I saw that he was pointing straight at Hagrid. Hagrid had tried to surprise us by getting us three ice creams, which he held in his overgrown hands and began mouthing how he would wait outside. I was actually touched by it – sure, the man was strange and slightly intimidating, but he certainly was nice.

"That's Hagrid," Harry said with a grin, pleased to know something the boy didn't. "He works at Hogwarts."

"Oh," the boy drawled the word out and made it sound as if it tasted bad. "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?"

"He's the gamekeeper," Harry corrected, I could see him clenching his jaw in frustration.

"Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of savage – lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed."

I think the worst part of that description, was that I could see it happening. And there was a part of me, a very small part of me, that let my imagination wander and visualize what the boy had just said. I let out a giggle that drew his attention and seemed to made him feel proud of himself.

"Well I think he's brilliant," Harry interrupted my giggle coolly and gave me a glare that had me sighing and looking away so that I could avoid a lecture.

"Do you?" the boy sneered, it seemed he no longer found this conversation interesting. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," said Harry shortly. I was surprised he was so forward about it – but I looked away, not really wanting to elaborate on it. As soon as he realized who Harry was, he might start to fawn over him like everyone else has so far. Then again, maybe he already had and that's why he was being so chatty – but at least he wasn't all adoring and friendly like everyone else had been. It made me almost think he was cute again.

"Oh, sorry," he didn't sound very sorry, but I didn't really care. I'd decided his rudeness was refreshing to being crushed by how happy everyone was to see my brother. "But they were our kind, weren't they?"

"They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean."

"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?"

I scoffed. This boy really knew how to write himself in and out of my good books. As soon as Harry would tell him his surname, he'd figure out he was _the famous _Harry Potter and this boy would change his tune, like all the other people who had been around him today. I couldn't help but cross my arms over my chest and the boy noticed how annoyed I was.

"What?" He asked with a scowl. "You're not a squib, are you?"

I didn't know what a squib was, but I knew that he did not say it as a compliment.

I glared at him and surprisingly, he was able to meet my glare. Most people looked away, Aunt Petunia once said it was unladylike and unnerving how much spite I could put behind a look – but this boy held it well. That was interesting.

"That's you done, my dear," Madam Malkin said and Harry was quick to jump off the stool. She was much faster than her assistant, it seemed. "Your turn, sweetie."

I frowned, knowing that now I would be up for the torture of the blonde boy's chatty-mouth before I climbed up on the stool. I was glad that the robe she pushed over my head covered most of my scar considering how much it swamped me. At least he wouldn't gawk at it.

"So," the boy began again, as I had known he would. "_Are_ you a squib?"

"I don't know," I muttered darkly, my eyes flickering over to him with a sneer. "Are _you_ a dumb-blonde?"

Harry, who had made it to where I was sat just a moment before, snorted out a laugh that sounded as if he had snored while awake. I couldn't help but smirk at my work between hearing my brother's laughter and seeing the boys glare of disbelief.

"You're done," the other witch, who was working on the boy, said. He hopped off the stool. "Would you like me to put that on your parents tab?"

"No," he said loudly, rattling a bag of coins in front of Harry's face as if to tease him. "I have more than enough to get it with this little bit, here."

I rolled my eyes, purposefully looking away from him as he moved to the front of the store. We'd gotten bigger bags of money for ourselves – but there was no point getting pricked by a needle just to prove that blonde-bogey wrong.

By the time I was done getting my robes fitted and Harry and I paid, I was excited to get back out and eat the ice cream. My headache had finally gone and I felt in a much better mood – but honestly, the chocolate and raspberry ice cream probably helped with that, too.

"What's up?" Hagrid asked as he saw Harry's annoyed face.

"Nothing," Harry lied. I sighed.

"He's upset about not knowing everything the other boy in there did," I told him honestly. Harry elbowed me for giving him up and I just smiled into my ice cream. It was nice to have him be grumpy for a bit today and be able to put _him _under an awkward spotlight instead of the lime one.

"Well, what was he sayin'?"

"Er," Harry suddenly seemed to have forgotten everything that had made him angry while he tried to think of something that the boy had mentioned. "What's Quidditch?"

"Blimey, Harry, I keep forgettin' how little yeh know – not knowin' about Quidditch!" I frowned.

"Don't make me feel worse," Harry groaned.

"We can find out about Quidditch when we go to the shop," I frowned, looking up at Hagrid with a nervous yank of my own hair. "Is a squib a bad thing?"

"Squib?" He repeated, looking shocked while he choked into his ice cream. "Where'd yeh hear that word?"

"Well, there was a boy in Madam Malkin's. He kept talking about Quidditch and houses and broomsticks. He asked Audrey if she was a squib and he said people from Muggle families shouldn't even be allowed _in_-"

"Yer not from a Muggle family. If he'd known who yeh were – he's grown up knowin' yer name if his parents are wizardin' folk." I couldn't help but look down as I realized that he pointed out him knowing _Harry's _name... "You saw what everyone in the Leaky Cauldron was like when they saw yeh. Anyway, what does he know about it, some o' the best I ever saw were the only ones with magic in 'em in a long line o' Muggles – look at yer mum! Look what she had fer a sister!"

"So was our Mum a squib?" I asked.

"No. She was raised a Muggle, but she was a witch. A Squib is someone who _should _be magical, but innit."

"Okay," Harry said slowly, though it was clear he was as confused as I was. "So what is Quidditch?"

"It's our sport. Wizard sport. It's like – like football in the Muggle world – everyone follows Quidditch – played up in the air on broomsticks and there's four balls – sorta hard ter explain the rules."

I was kind of glad he didn't take the time to – I didn't really like football.

"And what are Slytherin and Hufflepuff?" I asked, resting my head on my hand as I finished off my ice cream.

"School houses. There's four. Everyone says Hufflepuff are a lot o' duffers, but-"

"I bet I'm in Hufflepuff," said Harry gloomily. I frowned, suddenly regretting just how much I had hoped to be in that house because of that boy. I hoped _he _was in it because I refusedto be in the group of duffers.

"Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin," said Hagrid darkly. "There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin. You-Know-Who was one."

"Vol-" I stopped myself when I saw Hagrid wince. "Sorry...You-Know-Who went to Hogwarts?"

"Years an' years ago," said Hagrid. But that was all that he would say on it before we started our shopping again.

I nearly became ecstatic with all the books in the book store: Flourish and Blotts – I bought more than the courses said to. There were shelves from the floor to the ceiling – they were all different sizes and colours, different thickness and on different papers. Some were bound in leather, another few were bound in fur...

"Yeh might make a good Ravenclaw, Audrey," Hagrid acknowledged. And even though I didn't know what that really meant, I was just glad he didn't I'd make a good Hufflepuff.

I was amazed by the potions bubbling in the cauldrons – Harry had to drag me away from buying a golden one. Hagrid kept saying that I only needed a pewter for school, but the witch behind the desk continued to tell me all about the potions and ingredients that would be able to be mixed in a golden cauldron that would not work in a pewter and I was sold...sadly my money was not being held by me. And by the time we made it to the Apothecary, I was nearly running back to buy the golden cauldron again, knowing that I couldn't mix aconite, cobra venom and human fingernails unless I had one.

"Just yer wands left, now," Hagrid smiled down at us. He had nicely decided to carry all of our purchases in his giant arms. "Ah yeah, an' I still haven't got yeh a birthday present."

I couldn't help but stutter at the idea – a birthday present? I'd never gotten a _real _birthday present before...

"You don't have to-" Harry started quickly. I elbowed him slightly, trying to shut him up. I know that Hagrid didn't _have _to – but the thought of getting a _real _birthday present was too exciting to pass up. What would he get us? Maybe a golden cauldron?

"I know I don't have to. Tell yeh what, I'll get yer an animal," I gasped, smiling widely as I grabbed Harry's arm to make sure he was paying distinct attention. "Not a toad, toads went outta fashion years ago, yeh'd be laughed at – I'll get yer an owl. All the kids want owls, they're dead useful, carry yer mail an' everythin'."

"Are you only getting Harry one?" I asked, frowning slightly. Maybe Hagrid only had the money for one, but I was hurt that he immediately wanted me to sit back and watch Harry get what he wanted yet again. First he got attention and now he was going to get an owl?

"'Course not!" Hagrid frowned, looking confused. "But yeh know, Audrey – I think yer perfect for a cat. Yeah, a cat – let's go find one."

He walked us to Eeylops Owl Emporium and what should have taken ten minutes took over a half an hour because I couldn't decide – a cat seemed like the pet for me, but the owls were so tempting and the falcons! Who would ever think they could tame a falcon? But I seemed to be able to. They loved me. It wasn't until I was going through the aisles and my eyes fell on a beautiful, white kitten with pale leopard spots and bright amber eyes that I fell in love.

"Hello," I whispered to her. "You're beautiful."

The cat mewed at me. She looked different than the cats around her – her ears were extra large and oddly shaped, her tail looked closer to a lion's tail with a tuft at the end.

"Yeh found a kneazle!" Hagrid beamed. "Do yeh like her?"

"She's gorgeous," I gasped. "What did you call her?"

"A kneazle, 's a species. Yeh got it in that one book yeh bought, but they detect danger to their owners," I let the kitten bite on my finger and giggled at her. "She seems to like yeh. Not often a kneazle just likes any witch or wizard."

"Can I keep her?" I asked, looking up with a smile and giving him my most innocent eyes. "Please?"

Moments later, I was walking out of the store with a kneazle in a basket and Harry had an owl in a cage. We had both chosen snowy coloured animals and I loved seeing how we had chosen such close looking things before we even could have compared them.

"Thank you," I said again, looking up at Hagrid as the kitten swung to try and reach the hem of my sweater.

"Don' mention it," Hagrid frowned. "Don' expect you've had a lotta presents from them Dursleys. Just Ollivanders left now – only place fer wands, Ollivanders, and yeh gotta have the best wand."

A wand. A _real _wand.

I wonder if it _had _to come in black with white tips like the magicians on the television.

The last store we made our way into was narrow and more run-down than some of the others, with a single wand in a purple cushioned box decorating the window. It looked just like a simple wooden stick – I wondered if mine would still look black with white ends. The gold letters on the old wooden sign above the door read _Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. _

A bell alerted whoever worked in the store that Harry, Hagrid and I had entered. Hagrid sat on an old chair as he waited for us. There was a bell on the desk that I went to ring but as I moved forward, Harry shook his head and silently told me not to.

"Good afternoon," a soft voice said from the corner. An older man walked from the shadows, watching us with wide, pale eyes and an energy around him that made me shiver. He had something _strong _about him, even though he looked weak and wispy. It was almost scary.

"Hello," Harry said quietly. He elbowed me when I was too speechless to say anything.

"Ow!" I winced."Er – hi."

"Ah yes," the man said slowly. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon, Harry Potter."

Of course he didn't seem to hesitate to know who Harry was.

"You look so like your father. I remember his first wand, he favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable – a little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favoured it – but it's really the wand that chooses the wizard of course."

Harry could only nod. He looked terrified.

"And you, Audrey Potter – I never thought I would meet you in this shop. You look so like your mother. It seems only yesterday she was in her buying her first wand, as well: ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. A nice wand for charm work."

Was it a regular occurrence that this man could remember the wand of his client's parents? And why did he know he'd meet Harry but not think he'd meet me?

His eyes glanced over both our scars, ending on Harry's before his hand moved to touch the scar with a long, white finger.

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he sounded full of regret and it took me a moment to realize that he was referring to the wand that gave Harry his scar. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands...well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do..."

He shook his head and then, moving back to me but as he moved between us he seemed to catch Hagrid's eye.

"Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again...Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?" Then again, maybe he really _did_ remember everyone's wand.

"It was, sir, yes," said Hagrid, blushing and sounding a little less big and confident than he usually did.

"Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?" said Mr. Ollivander, suddenly stern. I raised my eyebrows, turning around to gaze at Hagrid who shuffled his feet and looked embarrassed.

"Er – yes, they did, yes," said Hagrid before he brightened considerably. "I've still got the pieces, though."

"But you don't use them?"

"Oh, no, sir," said Hagrid quickly, holding onto his pink umbrella rather tightly as he shook his head. I tried not to giggle at how little the giant man tried to make himself while Mr. Ollivander hummed his disapproval of the lie. He turned his eyes back to my brother.

"Well, now – Mr Potter, you first. Let me see." He pulled out a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"

"Er," Harry looked at me nervously and I pointed to my right, indicating he should do the same.

"Er – well, I'm right-handed," he said nervously.

"Hold out your arm: that's it," the old man muttered. He measured from my brother's shoulder to his finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and finally finished by measuring around round his head. The craziest part about it, was that the man didn't touch the tape measure – it took account of everything on its own.

"Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr and Miss Potter," Mr Ollivander explained as he measured. "We use unicorn hairs, magical feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, phoenixes, or augureys are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

He said of course as if we should have known this, but I tried to hang onto his every word.

"That will do," the tape measure fell to the floor when it's job was done as Mr Ollivander moved about the shelves, over spilling with wands, as he began to take down boxes. "Right then, Mr Potter: try this one. Beachwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."

Harry looked at me nervously, before taking his wand and waving it. Mr Ollivander barely let anything happen before he snatched it away from him.

"No, no – here, ebony and unicorn hair. Eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."

Harry tried another. And another. And another. Ash, Yew, Beachwood, Sandalwood, Holly, Mahogany – unicorn hair, augurey feather, dragon heartstring, augurey feather, unicorn hair. He rattled boxes and knocked over wands and even shot sparks out of the end of one – but still, Mr Ollivander took them all away.

"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere..." he thought as he moved toward the end of the shelf, moving somewhere I couldn't see him as I began to panic. What if I _didn't _have the perfect wand? What if I really was a squib and it was meant not to work for me after all? Maybe Harry, famous Harry Potter, was the only one who was supposed to go to Hogwarts – maybe I wasn't supposed to be here at all.

"Unusual combination," the old man said, handing my brother another wand. "Holly and phoenix feather. Eleven inches. Nice and supple."

This time, when Harry brought the wand down a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the tip like a firework. It looked beautiful and I was surprised when nothing it touched burned. Hagrid whooped at the display and clapped while Mr Ollivander beamed.

"Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well..." he breathed, coming forward and looking closely at the wand in my brother's hand. "How curious, how very curious..."

"Sorry," Harry said quietly, still unable to stop from smiling, "but what's curious?"

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand," he said slowly, packing up the wand as if it were very, very delicate. "It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather – just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother – why, its brother gave you that scar."

My jaw dropped as I looked down at the box that now contained my brother's wand. Harry swallowed thickly beside me.

"Is that really Vo-"

"_Audrey_!"

"That's You-Know-Who's wand?" I corrected, abiding by Hagrid's rule when he reminded me.

"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember..." he cleared his throat as his eerie, pale gaze turned to me. "And now, for you Miss Potter. Wand hand?"

I felt no less nervous as he came toward me, my hand extended while the tape measure soundlessly and with no help took its own measurements.

"Interesting, interesting," he mumbled watching over whatever the tape measure read before he went to his stock of wands and began to pull out a few. When he gave the word, the tape measure fell lifelessly to the ground again and he handed me my first wand. "Mahogany and unicorn hair. Ten inches, rigid. Try it out."

I waved the wand, feeling a breeze rattle the boxes before it was snatched from my hand. And just like with my brother, the process began again.

I went through more wands than Harry and more combinations. Willow, Yew, Ash, Sandalwood, Maple, Holly – phoenix feather, dragon heartstring, augurey feather, unicorn hair...it didn't matter the combination, I could not make something good happen. There was no shower of sparks, no display of good magic like Harry had...just dud after dud.

"Not to fret, not to fret – we will find the answer. Try this: phoenix feather and willow. Eleven inches, flexible."

I waved it and cried out when the vase in the far corner of the room cracked and spilled all the water out and onto papers that had been near it. Mr Ollivander made a noise of complaint before he took the wand from me. He moved to remove his own wand and clean the mess as I looked over to my brother.

"I'm never going to find a wand, am I?"

"I worried the same thing," he worried. "But if I did, you will. We're twins."

"Yes," Mr Ollivander said slowly. "Yes, you are. Miss Potter, if you would take...this one."

I was shocked as he moved around the desk for a moment and removed the paper from around Harry's wand before he handed it to me by the hilt. I shook my head, looking down at the Holly wand in confusion.

"But...that's Harry's wand."

"I would like to see the reaction. Perhaps I need to try to assemble a wand or look for a different kind of core for you. It's happened before. Try for curiosities sake," he urged, poking the wand forward again.

I sighed, looking over at Harry who shrugged. It didn't seem like he cared I might have to share his wand – would we have to share wands until Mr Ollivander could make my wand? – before I took a hold of it.

It was immediately as if a thousand needles were stabbing through my skin. I let out a cry and closed my eyes against the pain, feeling my knees tremble from the pain as I tried to drop the wand – but I was in so much pain that it didn't seem to work properly. I tried again and on the third or fourth time of trying to unwrap my fingers from it, I dropped the wand where it lay.

"Audrey!" my brother gasped, moving forward. "Audrey, are you alright?"

"Your wand," I gasped, looking at my bloody hand and hissing at the pain. "It – it attacked me!"

"Not to worry, not to worry!" Mr Ollivander said again, moving from behind his desk to come over to me. I wheezed when I noticed that his desk, which had just been pristine and organized was cracked down the middle as if the wood had split and Harry's wand lay with a bloody hilt right in the crevasse.

"Mr Ollivander," I said, looking at him in worry. What if he wouldn't make me a wand now that I'd ruined his desk? By Hagrid's reaction in the background, asking again and again what happened and 'what went wrong' I could tell this was not normal. "I'm so sorry!"

"No, no, no," he urged, pointing his wand to my hand. "Let me fix this, here."

With nothing more than a warm, golden glow I was able to move my hand as if nothing had happened to it at all. I looked at it in wonder, my eyes wide when I saw that the skin was flawless and even more smooth than it had been before it'd been injured.

"You do not need a phoenix wand...no, no – far too fiery for you," he mumbled, moving to a side shelf and taking another wand from his store. "I want you to try this one: Augurey feather, ash. Nine and three-quarter inches, springy."

Naturally, I was worried. It took me a moment before I could gather up the courage to take hold of this next wand, but when I did it was immediately different than any of the others. A nice chilly feeling crept up my arms – giving me goosebumps and making me feel as if something else was _there. _Something that hadn't been there for the other wands, from somewhere between the tip of the light wooded wand to the engraved grip that rubbed under the sensitive new skin of my palm.

"Curious," he muttered again. "Your wand is the opposite value to that of your brother's, Miss Potter. Very curious."

And it was true, as he took it from me to package it I examined the wands closely. His was a darker wood, while mine was light. His was supple while mine was springy. His was smooth while mine had jagged designs...designs in the shape of the _X _that was carved into my neck.

"Why is that, sir?" I asked quietly, unnerved by my own wand.

"The wand chooses the witch, Miss Potter. But I think it's clear that we can expect things from you two. Interesting, _great _things...After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things – terrible, yes, but great."

If only I had known then exactly how right he would be.

* * *

**Based off of my story** _Green Eyed Monster_.

**I do not own the Harry Potter universe or its characters. I do own Audrey Potter, her ridiculously vivid potion-making skills, and her wicked nicknames.**

**Thanks go out to** _leafstone__**,**__ Lei2510__**,**__ xXMizz Alec VolturiXx__**,**__ Magimagus__**,**__ Ergelina__**,**__ vmarslovahhh18__**,**__ Ella710__**,**__ incitanemxx__**,**__ Bitterglass__**,**__ Nicky-Maree__**, **__**and**__ Lizzy B _**for their reviews.**

**Enjoy the flashbacks and please review :)**


	6. October 5th, 1995

October 5th, 1995

Draco Malfoy was uncomfortable. Even the hot flow of the Firewhiskey sliding down his throat didn't sooth him, though it was slowly dulling his nerves. This was his second mug-full. He didn't particularly enjoying drinking Firewhiskey from the bulky Butterbeer mug, but even if his money could buy him the alcohol it could not buy reassurance for the bartenders of the Three Broomsticks – so this was the precaution of breaking the law. Draco Malfoy was not nervous as he broke these rules, either...but that may have been because he couldn't be bothered being any more uncomfortable than he already felt about _her_.

"It really is sad that Audrey couldn't come," Greengrass said in that tone of hers. She'd been bringing _her _up ever since they'd sat down. Draco knew her tone well; it was the tone that was hinting at a game she was ready to play. To be honest, he couldn't believe that someone as observant as Potter had ever become friends with her...it was clear that she hated and saw right through all of the girl's games.

"I'm not really sure why you're concerned," he found himself drawling, looking across the table towards Blaise and rolling his eyes dramatically. "Doesn't it make you uncomfortable how much she vehemently hates you?"

"She doesn't hate me," the girl pouted, running her finger along the thick rim of her Butterbeer mug. "She just takes some time to win over. She'll come 'round eventually."

"She's already forgiven _you_, hasn't she, Nott?" Blaise smirked, turning to look at the boy sat on Draco's left. It was strange to see the interactions here, Draco found himself musing. He and Zabini were much closer this year than last, so Draco found himself commonly unaware of what the boy would do. It seemed that they tended to play the same games and push the same buttons – but Blaise managed to do it in a careless way that Draco could not always master.

"Not surprising," Draco found myself holding back a smirk, enjoying the idea of seeing how Daphne responded to this. "Everyone tends to forgive you, Theodore, don't they?"

Nott's face seemed to smoulder a vibrant red, so he took a deeper drink of his Butterbeer-clad Firewhiskey. Greengrass not-so-subtly tried to comfort him, which obviously only made matters worse for him – he hated attention. All that Daphne Greengrass embodiedwas attention. She may as well have been sitting on his lap and since she was near three-quarters done her first mug of Firewhiskey, she was feeling much more confident...who knew what would happen when she ordered another.

"I wouldn't talk too smugly, Draco," Tracey's low voice interjected, her eyebrow raising in challenge. "You seem to be forgiven by particular people quite easily these days..."

And the subject came back to Potter again.

Draco was still on the fence about whether he liked Tracey Davis – she was a Half Blood, but had been raised in proper society, so she tended to know her place when it was necessary. Still, she often rattled the cages and she was very good at doing it. Better than she should have been. And worse, being a Half Blood, the girl felt that she had something more to prove – which meant that she rattled _his _cage more than she ought to.

She was a better friend for Potter than Greengrass was, though. So was Lillian Moon. They may have been behind-the-scenes personas – such as Crabbe and Goyle, or Bulstrode and Rivers – but it was something that Potter needed: people who actually listened to her, even if it was only so she could boss them around.

He drank more deeply, enjoying the burn of his throat even if it did set his thoughts flying once more. He wasn't sure how to take the subject of Potter if she was brought up again – it was already hard enough to stop thinking about her without her being brought up organically. He also didn't particularly enjoy how obvious it was that the thought of her made him uncomfortable. Just today, when he had seen her here in the village, had been an awkward exchange and they had insulted each other...quite badly. To say that he hadn't been insulted by her calling him arrogant, greedy, treacherous and two-faced would be apposite, but it would have been a lie. The words had dug a little more deeply than they should have.

What was worse was that he had insulted her _first. _It was humiliating, that he was still commenting on her dead parents and thinking nothing of it – it was juvenile and redundant. He knew it wasn't appropriate, but by now it was just habit. The girl was so infuriating, but at the same time...the way her face had fallen...

He finished off his Firewhiskey.

"Drinking a little quickly, Malfoy," Theodore said with narrowed eyes. "Something bothering you?"

"Your questions," he answered immediately, slamming the glass back down from his lips and raising his hand to the bartender for more. He didn't like that Theodore was trying to pass the Knut onto him when he had gone through all this trouble to get them Firewhiskey for the day. "It's not me drinking quickly, it's lot drinking slowly that seems to be the problem. This is a gift – appreciate it, or I'll take it away."

Blaise and Theodore were the only ones that didn't begin to chug their drinks, but that was not surprising. They were some of the very few people Draco could not properly intimidate. Perhaps it was because they'd known him too well for too long and knew he wouldn't follow through...or maybe it was because they could tell that he was lying.

Still, his refill came quickly and the others were all topped up. It was a lot of Firewhiskey for anyone – thanks to the large Butterbeer mugs – but particularly for Greengrass and Moon's small frames. Still, he couldn't help but feel amused as they began moving in large, exaggerated movements and sway a bit in their seats.

He could hardly find himself engaging in the conversation around him as he continued drinking. He couldn't stop thinking about _her – _how many times had Potter been brought up since he had gotten to the Three Broomsticks? Twice, three times, seven? He was feeling a little sick to his stomach the more he thought and he was sure it wasn't thanks to the Firewhiskey. It was almost like some sense of dread. Maybe it wasdread...he did regret how he had left Potter to go to her detention after they had insulted each other so badly. Sure, he had tried to make it right by trying to get her to bunk it and come with him, but he couldn't help but fear how their next interaction would go now that they had taken yet _another_ step backwards.

"Umbridge is quite a character, isn't she?" Moon asked, leaning forward a bit. "It's nice to be away from her – she's a bit overpowering."

"She's brilliant," he disagreed, remembering fondly how Potterhad thrown a moonstone at her brother on the very first day of Umbridge's class. "She'll bring a whole new order to the school."

"And as for what happened to Fawcett?" Theodore asked with dark eyes, looking around the place to make sure no one would overhear. "She used a blood quill on her."

"Seraphina Fawcett is a trouble maker," Blaise brushed off with a scoff. "Knowing her, she did something to deserve it."

"She wasn't doing her homework, for a week, while her little boyfriend was in the hospital wing," Daphne pointed out, crossing her arms across her chest. "That's hardly reason for that much force."

"I agree with Blaise," Tracey shrugged. "She needs some sense slapped into her."

"That doesn't mean she needs it _cut _into her," Nott pointed out with a frown.

"I don't much care either way," Draco found himself rolling his eyes, glad that everyone quieted their arguing to face him. "As long as she keeps using it on Potter."

"Has Audrey found out about that?" Daphne asked with large eyes, looking between them all nervously. "She'll be furious..."

"Can we stop talking about her?" Draco found himself hissing, making everyone raise their eyebrows suspiciously. He had said it too harshly, too fast. "You lot are so obsessed with her perhaps you should start plotting with Pansy."

"But Pansy _hates _her," Davis said.

"Still obsessed with her, though, only negatively," Blaise agreed, before turning to me and smirking at me tauntingly. "_Draco _on the other hand..."

"Did I not _just _say that I didn't want to talk about her?" He found himself hissing, taking a sharp drink of his Firewhiskey and enjoying the distraction that the burn caused.

"Methinks he doth protest too much," Blaise turned away to hide his smirk and Draco fought hard not to hit him. Then he had to fight harder not to hit any of them as the group started snickering with him. Luckily, Goyle seemed to read his mind and did it for him, making a fist and throwing it hard into Blaise's shoulder.

"Lighten up, Draco," Theodore chuckled, taking another drink to try and cover it.

"Seriously?" Blaise groaned, rotating the arm that Goyle had punched and wincing. "Let's not pretend that you two aren't completely infatuated with one another, everyone can see it."

"It's love," Lillian giggled drunkenly, sounding nearly deranged when she didn't stop. "It's not infatuation. You can tell!"

"Really?" Tracey asked skeptically. "Because half the time I think there will be domestic violence. The other half I'm sure they'll jump each other – it's infatuation."

"It's love!" Lillian argued stubbornly. "You can _see _it!"

"Apparently I have no say in this, then?" Draco asked darkly, glaring at the two girls who only answered him by giggling more. It was the first sign that Davis was being effected by her alcohol. She could drink a lot of it, it seemed. Draco, again, called the bartender over to refill their drinks. Daphne moaned, seeing there was more and Lillian just continued to giggle making the others roll their eyes. They waited until the bartender moved away, before some silent agreement was made that it was free to talk again.

"You can't say Audrey's not pretty," Daphne urged again, looking at Draco seriously. "She is...in her own way."

"She has beautiful eyes," Lillian sighed. "I wish I had eyes like hers."

"They look just like her brother's," Blaise grimaced, taking a long chug of his Firewhiskey. "I'm sorry, mates. I don't see the appeal of that girl."

"Me neither," both Crabbe and Goyle said lowly. "She's bad."

"She's not _bad,_" Blaise rolled his eyes at them. "She's just not _attractive._"

"She can be," Nott frowned, scowling at his own admission and pulling away slightly from Daphne when she gave him a look that could murder. "I mean, she has the untamed air about her...some people like that."

"Draco does," Davis snorted into her mug, not daring to look up from the Firewhiskey to meet what was obviously a very fierce glare from the boy in question.

"I was raised around debutants, Davis," he barked. "I have no patience for taming someone who does not want to be tamed."

Not that any of that was not necessarily true. He found it fascinating just how much of a challenge this girl presented to someone like him, how much she didn't follow the rules or pay attention to what she was told. Sometimes, she did things just to spite people – it was considered terrible in his community. But he found it somewhat admirable. In fact, he almost found it brave.

"She can be made up like one," Lillian smiled, looking strangely nostalgic as she stared out a far window. "Remember her at the Yule Ball? I was so jealous."

Draco found himself smirking again, drinking his Firewhiskey just so he wouldn't look as lost in thoughts as Lillian did. He could certainly remember how she looked last year at the Yule Ball. He also remembered how, for the first time, she seemed almost fit to play the debutant girlfriend he'd always been around. She had danced horribly, something a girlfriend in the Pureblooded society would not do, but she had been charming. More charming than he'd later admit to.

"Looks aren't the only factor in being raised properly," he found himself saying despite his thoughts. "She has no personality to live in our world."

"And her looks were a fluke. I'm telling you, mates, she's unattractive: not ugly, I admit. I'd probably shag her if I had to. But she's not attractive," Blaise assured, completely oblivious to how his friend across from him was nearly shattering the mug in his grip. "The girl's a mess. Her hair is horrendous."

"It's a nice colour!" Lillian defended, giggling at the end even though she was not trying to be funny. "It can look nice if she pays attention."

"But she doesn't," Blaise pointed out. "And she's too thin. She has no curves at all."

"That's not her fault," Theodore said quietly, looking over to Daphne and sharing a long look that Draco couldn't really understand. It had a deep meaning, he could tell by the seriousness of the gaze, but his mind was a little too flustered from the alcohol to pick it apart. "She never really got to eat like we did."

"She can when she's here, but she doesn't."

"She's been a little preoccupied," Greengrass defended with a scowl. "Her boyfriend was just murdered, Blaise!"

The comment hit them all like a freight train. There were so many points to consider within that one sentence that it made Draco's head spin just trying to decipher one point from the next and they all cascaded and fell into each other, creating some tangle of bad news.

First, it started to dawn on him just why she might not have been eating. Sure, the group of them had all talked on the Express about keeping her in line, keeping people like Rivers away, and making her eat – but Draco had never really thought about just _why _it was so necessary. Theodore had called it correctly, that she would be stubborn about it. But still, it was strange to actually acknowledge why she had no appetite or worry over her appearance. If Diggory were still here, would she often get dressed up like she was that day at Quidditch try-outs? Would she try to untangle her hair or feel like she needed curves to impress him? And further, would Draco be more attracted to her if she _did_?

Secondly, that sentence only brought on the thought about who had murdered Cedric Diggory in the first place. And it reminded all of them that the Dark Lord had, indeed, returned. Of course, the media was not sure of it – but Draco was. Draco's parents were already hard at work for the man, as were Crabbe's, Goyle's, and Nott's dad. Moon, Davis, Greengrass and Zabini were not in the inner circle – in fact, the Moon and Greengrass families were not followers of the Dark Lord at all – but that did not mean they were not affected by it. And that did not mean they did not know what lay ahead of them.

Third, and possibly worst of all, Draco couldn't believe the clawing sensation that filled his chest when Cedric Diggory was described as her _boyfriend. _He had mentioned it like that to her, of course, but had it upset him ruthlessly when she admitted to kissing the bloke and it only became worse when he was described as her _boyfriend. _Was she really so upset, so desiccated and weak, because she was _mourning _him?

He couldn't believe how dread and the jealousy reacted in his chest, as if they were chemicals that created some acidic mixture that churned his insides.

"Oh no," Lillian hiccoughed, quite loudly, and pressed her hand against her chest. The group laughed just to erase the tension the last conversation had made. It was nice to distract himself with her drunkenness and her sloppiness, but she shook her head. "No...look!"

The window behind him, where Lillian's shaking hand was pointing was filled by two people: a woman in horrendous feathered robes and a man who was holding a camera. The bulb of the camera flashed brightly when Draco looked their way and he had to blink the stars from his eyes before he could recognize who he was seeing.

It was Elaine Thatcher looking at him through the glass, one of her camera men trailing behind her. Draco found himself glaring at her and turning away to try and show her that he wasn't interested in giving any more interviews.

"That woman," he growled to himself, thinking back on the fame she had gathered this summer thanks to his interviews and her horribly written articles. Nearly the entire thing was taken out of context, other than when he was insulting the Boy-Who-Lied...and now the whole world, including his moronic friends, were obsessed with the idea that he and Audrey Potter should _date._

"She's-" Lillian hiccoughed and lowered her head as if to be hidden from sight. "She's coming."

"Fantastic," Blaise sighed, leaning his head back and bringing the Firewhiskey to his lips.

"Draco!" The way the journalist nearly sang his name made him wince. "So good to see you, young one."

"Go away," he murmured, gripping hard onto his mug. "I'm not in the mood for sound bites."

"Oh, but Draco, we wanted to know how your first term was going after all the events of last year," her condescending baby-voice made him want to jinx her. "Your interviews proved _very _influential to the wizarding world this summer, as I'm sure you saw."

"You took half my quotes out of context," he reminded her. "I have nothing more to say to you."

"Hm," she hummed, looking around the group of Slytherins interestedly. "I see Audrey Potter isn't with you. Pity, I'd hoped she would be."

"Well, she's not," he growled, finishing off his final mug of Firewhiskey and slamming it hard on the table. He was surprised it didn't splinter by the force. "Now leave."

"Not until I get my quote – how is our hero doing this term? How is her brother fairing? How is the Ministry's representative – I've heard that Dolores Umbridge can be quite strict. Now that Diggory is out of the way, have you and Audrey become an item, Draco?"

"I'm leaving," he snarled, standing up and feeling glad when Elaine Thatcher had to back away from her place because Crabbe and Goyle followed his movements and took up all the space. He had wanted to order dinner here with his friends, but he would leave and head to Hogwarts before their time in Hogsmeade was over just to escape this woman. Surprisingly, he heard all the other chairs push out as well – it seemed everyone was supporting him.

"But Draco, just one little interview-"

"If I wanted to give you an interview, I would owl you again," Draco found himself hissing in the woman's face.

"You're drinking Firewhiskey? Aren't you a little young?" She raised an eyebrow. She must have smelt it on his breath, before she grabbed her acid green quill and began to write with it on oddly luminescent parchment. "All is not well in paradise, it seems that Draco Malfoy has gotten in an argument with his school-sweetheart, Audrey Po-"

Draco, feeling more uninhibited than normal thanks to the Firewhiskey, moved forward to grab her quill and revelled in the sound of it snapping between his fingers. Elaine Thatcher let out a shocked yelp, looking ready to cry at the loss of her quill.

"If you _ever _try to do that again, I will be sure my father has your job," Draco hissed. "Now leave us alone."

He began a charge out of the Three Broomsticks, watching as his friends followed him as if he had given some kind of marching order. They were wise and kept their distance from him – it was easy to see just how angry he was and they didn't want to feel the brunt of it just by getting in his way. At least, most of them did.

"Draco," Draco vaguely allowed himself to feel surprised that Daphne was able to rip herself away from Theodore, both because they were disgustingly inseparable and also because she was swaying so badly. She jogged forward, creating a weaving track up the path, before she finally made it up to him. "Are you alright?"

"No," he muttered, setting his jaw. There was no part of him that wanted to talk to Daphne Greengrass about his frustrations or his problems. The woman could not keep a secret to save her life. In fact, he almost found himself hoping to talk to Potter about all of this – as much as she frustrated him, she could be quite the listener. And she was never against answering his questions, if he made her angry enough.

"Is it about the reporter?" Daphne furthered, giving her own little hiccough and covering her mouth while they passed by the gates to Hogwarts. Draco found his eyes rolling before he shook his head.

"I can deal with Elaine Thatcher," he assured her. She nodded her head nervously.

"So...it has to do with Audrey, then."

Draco turned his head so that he could properly glare at her. From the corner of his eye, he could see that everyone else had fallen back in their steps – no one dared get any closer. Daphne had been brave to step forward at all, he admitted, but it didn't make him want to go any easier on her.

"What do you want, Greengrass?"

"I'm not really sure," she said quietly. For a moment he wondered if that was the Firewhiskey talking, but taking one glance at her he could see that she was fidgeting and nervous. "Maybe to make you think a little."

"Make me think?" He repeated with a scoff. "About what?"

"I think that when you yelled at that woman, the reporter..." she trailed off, shaking her head before taking a deep breath as if to prepare herself. "I think you were telling her to leave you and _Audrey _alone."

He started, nearly faltering in his steps. "What are you blathering about?"

"Right before you left, you said 'leave us alone'...I don't think you were talking about _us_," she assured him, jerking her head slightly to the people behind them. "She had just been hinting at you and Audrey being in a tiff – I think it made you angry."

"You think too much about things you aren't smart enough to consider," he said, realizing sadly that he had stumbled over the sentence thanks to the alcohol. "I meant to leave the _group_ of us alone."

"You didn't," she reassured with a smile. "It's alright – I think it's cute."

"Don't," he hissed warningly. "I am clearly not in the mood."

"I think you and Audrey are perfect together," she continued as if she hadn't heard him. "You balance each other out – understand each other in a way that we don't. If I understood her as well as you did, we would still be friends."

"But you're not," he said forcefully. "So stop trying to speak for her."

"Oh, I'm not speaking for her," she assured with wide eyes, shaking her head. "Audrey would kill me if she found out that I was telling you this...but she does fancy you, Draco."

"Don't be daft," he hissed, his thoughts swirling dangerously back to only hours before when he had insulted her dead parents, insulted her...when she had listed, quite specifically, everything she hated about him.

"She doesn't know what to do with her emotions, she's very confused," Daphne explained, stumbling a bit as they began walking up a steeper part of the path toward the castle. "She's always found you...endearing. No, that's not the right word. She's always found you...authentic. She likes it about you – even if she argues with you all the time."

"Potter and I will never have a relationship," he said sharply. "We are carved from very different wood."

"I disagree." She said certainly. "Sure, you may be from different wood, but your wand cores are the same."

"No they aren't," he rolled his eyes. She did the same.

"I meant metaphorically, Draco. And she does like you – she just doesn't know what to do with it. She won't admit it to herself. But Draco...she fancies you. A lot." She nodded pointedly. "I think you'd be dead otherwise."

"Yeah?" he asked darkly. "Well, why don't I march right up there and ask her?"

"She'll never say yes if you march up and ask her!" She gasped as if he was blaspheming. "Do you know nothing about women?"

"I know _everything _about women," he smirked, looking at her. She let out a dramatic gag.

"Fine. Do you know nothing about _Audrey_? She would panic, if not hex you."

"Proving she doesn't fancy me," he added, walking forward and refusing to look at her again. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but he couldn't help but let the situation play out in his mind and imagine just how she would react to the news...to the news that he fancied her. Hell, he didn't know how _he _would react to the news.

"If you were to admit you fancied her," Daphne continued very slowly, watching Draco's reaction as he immediately shook his head and took a deep breath to argue. "It would embed the idea in her mind. She'd finally admit to herself what was happening."

"So what," he asked, trying to sound angry to cover his own traitorous curiosity. "You're saying if I walk up to her and tell her I fancy her, right now, by Friday she would say she fancies me? You're mad. She doesn't like you, or me."

And that was a point he should really have taken into consideration much sooner before _this _idea was embedded into _his _head. Daphne did not know Audrey like he did, particularly since they had not been friends since the year before. And even when they had been friends, they had always been at odds – they were opposites, it's why they had gotten along. Sometimes. Draco knew that if she heard any of this, Audrey would laugh in his face.

"I'm not saying it would take that little time to convert," she admitted, blushing a bit when she thought about what he said. "It could take weeks or months. But I was friends with her much longer than you have been, and I know her – I know how she thinks. If you tell her that you fancy her, she'll finally admit to herself she's thought about how much she just might fancy you. And then it will grow."

"So you expect me to go up to her, right now, and admit some ridiculous feelings...feelings which I don't have," he added quickly upon seeing her smile. "And everything would magically be okay in the end?"

"No! I certainly wouldn't want you to do it now," Daphne said quickly.

"Then why have this conversation _now_?" he pointed out, walking through the large oak doors of the castle and stepping into the Entrance Hall. He took his time shrugging off his cloak, just so that he wouldn't have to look at Greengrass as he thought.

"Because this is the only time you've ever stuck around long enough to have it with me," she assured, rubbing her hands together to warm them.

"I don't know why I'm doing it," he muttered. "You're completely insane."

"And you're in denial, just like she is." Daphne said forcefully. "But...not right now. Don't tell her when you're drunk – she'll never accept it if you're drunk. She'll be terrified."

"The great Audrey Potter, afraid?" he asked sarcastically, ignoring the fact that he had said her first name – he hadn't done that in years. It felt unnatural – it was such a horrid name for her. She was not an Audrey at all – that was such a common name. A _muggle _name. She was also not a Drea – that ridiculous nickname her friends used for her – but what else was he supposed to call her then? Potter. That was it. That's what he was left with...

He hated using that name, too.

"I've already said it, Draco," Daphne said with a sigh. "Her boyfriend was just murdered by the Dark Lord. Suddenly she's put with you and _has _to confront the fact she fancies you...yes, anyone would be terrified. And if you tell her when you're piss drunk, she'll run."

The others had caught up to them by this point and neither Draco or Daphne said anything as they handed their cloaks over to Crabbe and Goyle, who planned to head to the kitchens, then back to the common room to eat, and back to the Great Hall for when dinner started. Blaise was very open about helping both Lillian and Tracey back to the kitchens for some food as Lillian was hardly able to walk and Theodore, of course, cut the conversation completely when he decided to stick close to Greengrass once more.

"Are we headed back to the common room?" Theodore asked.

Draco could only nod, not willing to speak now that Daphne's conversation had stopped and was left to whir inside of his mind.

"I know I put the thought in your head," she said, as if reading this thoughts. "It's a good thing. It'll show you how right I am – thoughts grow."

"What thought?" Theodore asked, stepping beside the both of them.

"Nothing," Malfoy scowled, looking at her with a sneer to ensure she stayed silent. "Your girlfriend is drunk."

"We're not together," they both blushed harshly, looking away from each other and Malfoy as the accusation was made. He was glad that he had managed to tinge the awkward atmosphere away from himself – he was getting sick of Audrey Potter hanging around in the air around him when she wasn't near him.

Still, the awkward silence raged on like cloud. The silence hovered over them as they walked to the common room in silence. The silence was comforting, even if it left him thinking. Draco didn't particularly like his thoughts, but it was better that they were his instead of Greengrass' traitorous ones.

But his thoughts weren't helped at all, because on their way down to the common room to wait for dinner, the three Slytherins ran into a rather disconcerting sight. Draco's first thought was how glad he was that the other's had headed to the kitchen to try and sober up. His second was rationalizing that he was glad because it meant they wouldn't have to see just how badly he was going to _rip _his housemate in two.

"Potter!"

His bellow was loud and echoed through the corridor, making Montague jump back from where he had been standing very close to the redhead in question. She looked over at him for a moment and noticeably breathed a sigh of relief...she looked like she was shaking. No, she _was _shaking. Audrey Potter was scared. And whatever Montague had just done to her was the reason_._

Resentment tore at his insides, mixing in with the acidic properties that the dread and jealousy had made only minutes before. It was a toxic waste that spilled in him, mixing into some kind of rage that he had never felt before that moment.

He walked forward, his eyes sharp on Montague – the seventh year looked just as furious that they had been interrupted. But Draco felt more livid; livid enough to hex Montague until he could never walk that close to Potter again. Draco knew that he was drunk, his actions were a little more blunt than they should be, so Draco stopped a fair distance away. He would give Montague his chance to run.

"Are you okay?" Theodore had moved toward Potter, checking her over while Draco moved a little bit to try and flank her as Crabbe and Goyle often flanked him – it also put the blonde right in the face of Montague, who looked about as ready to kill as Draco, himself, felt.

"Malfoy," Montague spat his name, not even trying to keep his voice polite or subtle about what he had been doing just moments before. "Looks like you came just in the nick of time."

"Seems so," He responded darkly, restraining himself from tearing the prick in two. "Did you have business with Potter, here?"

"Not as much business as you seem to," his voice was filled with insinuations and the smirk did not help to quell Draco's fury. Seeing this and knowing what was about to happen, it seemed Montague wanted to drop all pretenses – so he looked toward both Theodore and Daphne with a sharp gaze. "Get out of here."

"Adam, come on, let's just go to dinner-" Theodore began, trying to keep everyone calm, while Draco was just as anxious to make him leave. These two should not be around when he tore this housemate limb from limb, something just seemed wrong about them having to witness it. Montague seemed to agree with the sentiment.

"Leave." Draco's voice was a command, which made it sound much more convincing and it was simply because Draco did not want to leave whatever duel would happen hanging any longer. It took a moment, a long moment, for Theodore to realize just how much was about to happen and even though he wanted to stay, Daphne was sure to pull him away in horror.

After everything she had just told Draco, it was quite clear that he _was _willing to fight for Audrey. She must have agreed that the moment should not be interrupted by them.

The corridor seemed to darken as soon as the two left. With only Potter, Montague and he in the area now, Draco didn't know what kind of curse he wanted to use first. In fact, he was so angry, he kind of wanted to see Montague's bloodshed by his own hands instead of by his wand. He wasn't sure which he was going to use first.

"If you two aren't dating, Malfoy, then I can have as much play with her as I'd like," Montague said, trying to sound menacing but not touching close to the fury that Draco felt. The effect was lost on him as he thought about just what _play _Montague would like with the redhead standing behind him. "Potter here is learning the consequences to her actions."

"That's not what it looks like," he snapped back, hardly realizing just how dark and intimidating it sounded in comparison. He didn't need to compare himself to Montague – he knew he was a better man and a much better opponent. "It looks as though you're punishing her for teaching _you_ about consequences."

"Does it?" Montague repeated with a clenched jaw.

"You shouldn't have cornered Greengrass last year, Montague," Draco explained, nodding his head and lowering his voice to try and drive home his point. "Attack some other unfortunate bint, but not one of our own. You know the rules. So I think that Potter, here, had the right idea – _you _were in the wrong."

"The right idea?" Montague sounded hysterical as he tried to step forward. Draco felt, immediately, when Potter came up to stand beside him – trying to challenge Montague on her own – but he wanted none of it. She'd had her time to try and deal with the situation alone and clearly it was not working in her favour. Montague wouldn't get the opportunity to hurt her while he was here...it was time someone else dealt with the problem if she wasn't willing to put him in his place as he deserved. So instead of letting her fight him, he moved his arm in front of her to keep her back. If Potter wouldn't use force, Draco was more than happy to. It was _his _fight now. "Do you know how long I was in the hospital wing? Do you know how long I was using ointments? No person deserves that!"

"You're not a person, Montague," Potter's voice floated from behind him, still unable to sound quite as confident as she usually did. "You're a sad, pathetic excuse for a misplaced link in humanity."

When Adam's eyes finally looked toward the girl they were fighting about, Draco couldn't help but let his eyes fall over his shoulder so he could give her an annoyed look – he was trying to bring this fight onto himself, she didn't need to be drawing attention away from that.

"Yes, you're so clever, Potter."

"I know."

Draco almost wanted to snort at her confidence, but the emotion leaked away as soon as he saw the light that sparked behind Montague's eyes. He took a step forward to speak to her, but Draco held his ground, not letting him get any closer to the redhead behind him. Draco even moved his hand to toward his pocket, ready to draw his wand if need be.

"But tell me, Potter," Montague drawled, a horrid smile slicing through his features. "Is that how you really feel?"

"With ever fiber of my being," her voice sounded strong from behind Draco and he was glad that she was not crumbling or acting afraid as Daphne already had done and all the others would have. But not her. She hated crumbling, and it was strength that may have been the reason for him considering fancying her.

"Tell me, Potter, do you feel the same way about Malfoy?" Draco worked hard to keep the squeeze of his gut to himself. The dread, guilt and resentment – the concoction which fuelled his rage – was made into something even more horrible when nervousness was added into the mixture. He didn't want to hear whether or not Potter compared Malfoy and Montague on the same scale.

"No, I don't."

"Fascinating," Montague took his time and nodded, relaxing his pose as he looked away from both of them and began to walk away. "Well, I guess since Prince Charming here came to your rescue, there's nothing I can do now..."

There was a moment where Draco felt like it might be over, but Adam's walk was too confident and his movements were too energized for the fight to have been won – so Draco held his ground. He was glad, because Montague soon turned around with a smile.

"Oh, wait..."

"What?" Potter hissed from behind him.

"There _is _something I can do," Montague added with a smile, taking a few steps forward and locking eyes with Draco. It was impossible not to see the joy radiating from the seventh year and even more impossible not to be suspicious of it. "Malfoy, did you know that our dear Audrey is currently under the effects of truth serum?"

Draco didn't really know what to do with that information. He knew, were he sober, that his mind would have been reeling with ways to abuse that power, but right now all he felt was confusion over why Montague would bring that up during a fight like this.

"I will _kill_ you," Potter spit at him.

"I guess you truly believe that," Montague sighed dramatically. With a shrug, he walked with the same confident gait, all the way down the corridor toward the Dungeons.

Draco turned around, watching Potter as she lost herself in her own thoughts – they were turbulent and going a mile a minute – he could tell simply by her expression. But he was more distracted by the hand cupping her cheek; on that cheek, he noticed that there was a very red bruise. He watched as the adrenaline tried to escape her body, causing her to quiver more violently. But he couldn't make himself care that she was shaking...that bastard had _hit _her.

"Are you really on Veritaserum?" he found himself asking, still trying to piece together exactly what that information had to do with the duel he and Montague nearly had. He watched her frown, probably thinking the same thing.

"Yes. Umbridge put it in my tea," she paused, looking away from him. "Are you alright?"

He wasn't alright at all. Between all the things that Daphne had just said to him, the frustration caused by that damned reporter, and now the testosterone coursing through his bloodstream that couldn't be dealt with thanks to Montague being too cowardly to duel him, he felt anything _but _alright.

"Were you on your way to Snape, then?"

She seemed to realize that he was avoiding the question, but he knew that since she was on Veritaserum she wouldn't be able to argue as much as normal. This was proven when she answered him with a quiet, "yes."

"Since I know you can't be lying," he tried to make it sound sarcastic and mocking, as he usually sounded, but he was still too furious for it to sound anything but what it was. Instead, he distracted himself by walking toward the Dungeons, following in Montague's footsteps to make sure that she made it safely to the Potion's Master.

"Are you really alright, though?" She asked again, her voice now higher and not at all intimidating. She had a higher voice today than normal – it was another sign of how she was frightened by what had just happened, even if she wouldn't admit it. "You look off."

"I'm drunk," there was no point denying it. She would soon notice that her other friends were drunk as well.

"You are?"

"I may be able to lie, but I don't really see the point to," he answered, rolling his eyes. "Why, how do I look 'off'?"

"Well, your cheeks are red and your hair is messed," she answered. He nearly went to go fix the problem that his hair must have been for her to admit that before she continued. "You never have your hair so imperfect – it's actually a nice change."

"Is it?" He took the time to look down the corridor they were passing just so he wouldn't have to look at her. He shouldn't have felt the urge to keep his hair as it was, simply because she said she liked it. In fact, it frustrated him how quickly he'd dropped the thought of fixing his hair just because of her words.

"Yes, it is," Potter groaned loudly. "Please stop asking questions – rhetorical or otherwise."

"Fine," he didn't really want to talk to her anyway. The liquid courage he had ingested earlier was trying to urge him to follow with Daphne's advice – but even if he did take it...which he really didn't want to...she had still said not to tell her when he was drunk. And did he really want to tell her anyway? Did he really want to throw away this camaraderie between them just so he could admit to some feelings that he was sure would pass with time?

When they had finally moved down to Snape's office, Draco found himself unable to stop himself from rounding on her. It was easier than he thought it would be, he simply had to stand in front of the door – she wouldn't run away. She needed the antidote or this Veritaserum would course through her system for who knew how long. She looked up at him, her mossy eyes looking scared a moment before she rolled them and sighed.

"This is the moment when I humiliate myself further, isn't it?"

Yes, it was, he wanted to say. But he didn't want to say anything that would make her argue with him right now. Draco had more important questions to ask her than any of the challenges Daphne had just presented. He was far more worried about the challenges that _Adam _had.

"What did Montague say to you?"

"He said that he plans to take advantage of me since I melted his trousers to his genitals last year by any means necessary. Including blackmailing me about Nott and yourself," it was the typical dither from someone who was under truth serum. It was nice, seeing her answer something without hiding it, as she always tried. Still, she winced at her own confession. "You can't tell anyone."

"Blackmailing us in Quidditch?" Draco asked, almost wanting to roll his eyes at Montague's nerve.

"Yes, but I told him that you had more power on the team anyway," she admitted. Draco couldn't help but feel a little proud that it was so obvious and that she, of all people, noticed it. She hated Quidditch, everyone knew that, but he wondered whether or not she enjoyed how much power he had concerning it. "And I threw in some insults for my own benefit."

He nodded to himself, trying to think of another question to ask, one that he knew she would never admit when she was off of this potion. "Why were you in Umbridge's office?"

"She invited me for tea after she saved me from McGonagall's detention," she swallowed deeply, looking around the corridor for some sort of escape. "What is this, Malfoy?"

She moved to put her hand in her pocket, withdrawing a thin stack of parchment and shoving it into his hands. The paper had neater writing on it than he knew she had. In fact, it was perfect writing. It took a moment for his fogged mind to understand that he was looking at an article from the _Prophet_ – one of the ones written by Elaine Thatcher, herself. He didn't care to know which one it was, which incriminating out-of-context quote she was particularly thinking of.

"That would be an article from the _Daily Prophet_," he answered, looking away.

"So I'd gathered," she responded with a lower voice. "Would you like to explain why you said what you said?"

"Because you really are a terrible dancer, Potter," he answered as quickly as he could, holding the articles back out to her so that he didn't have to look at them anymore. "I was shocked my feet weren't broken."

Her eyes closed as she sighed. "Not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

"Why were you so keen on convincing the world that we are – are..._involved_?" He couldn't help but scowl at her choice of words. "I just don't understand what you're playing at. Clearly, I get why you wanted to make Harry look bad – I mean, like myself you always want to make Harry look bad – but what made you want to make me look good?"

"Because you _are _good, Potter...well, you're not the worst, at least," he sneered, leaning a little bit closer as the words from the Three Broomsticks swam through the forefront of his thoughts again. _Her boyfriend was just murdered. _Audrey Potter was good – she was on the good side and were she not, she never would have been dating Diggory...

She would have been dating _him_.

"Is that what you meant here?" The redhead's small hands moved through the articles, stopping on the familiar '_School Sweethearts: Young Malfoy Spills All on Potter Twins_'. "When you said 'we keep our interactions short so that no one gets the wrong idea and no one gets in trouble – but I can honestly say she's the best I've met'...what did you mean, 'the best you've met'?"

He wanted to hiss as if he had been set on fire; that was certainly what her saying those words felt like. He leaned his head against Snape's door, enjoying the feeling of it spinning before allowing himself to smirk. It made sense now: this is what Montague had planned, wasn't it? For him to take advantage of the Veritaserum, just as she was taking advantage of these Articles that damned him.

But he shouldn't. Greengrass had told him that he would scare her away if he said anything about – well, _anything. _He closed his eyes to help himself fight the urge. It was the best his drunken thoughts could come to a compromise with.

"If you aren't going to answer, you can at least let me get my antidote," Potter growled.

He opened his eyes with a sigh and dared to look down at her. He stayed as he was for a moment, watching the confusion in her own jaded eyes – they really were beautiful: just like Lillian had said earlier – and it was far too easy to get lost in them. And when he finally realized she was still waiting for a response about the article, he decided to answer her.

"I don't remember."

"I don't believe you."

"You don't have to," Draco found himself straightening up, trying hard not to think about the answer to her question. What _had _he meant? Even he couldn't remember the context it was taken from – that was the problem with these idiotic writers...but something told him that it could have been something from a much, much more incriminating conversation. And since it was incriminating, he wanted some sort of reassurance. "Do you know what I want to know?"

"Please don't ask," she said immediately. It almost looked like she was getting ready to run away from him...just like Daphne had warned.

But Daphne hadn't anticipated this scenario; this was the one time that Audrey Potter couldn't run away from the answers, even if she ran away from him. She was on Veritaserum, the little witch _had _to answer him...it was the only time he might ever really know. And for some reason, some reason he would forever blame on alcohol, it suddenly became really important that he knew.

"What do you think of _me, _Potter?" He asked, his voice low as he tried to pretend that this wasn't as imperative as it really was. "You read those articles, you heard what everyone else heard."

"But it didn't make sense," she repeated, her voice going higher again as she became desperate for some kind of escape. "What you said didn't make any sense at all. It didn't explain to me what the articles meant, why you've been protecting me, why you would think of lying to the wizarding world, or-"

"Did you ever wonder if it's because I may fancy you, Potter?"

Firewhiskey was just as bad as Veritaserum and it was only a matter of time before the question was asked. After thinking about this for weeks thanks to all the conversation on the train, in the _Prophet, _during patrols, in the common room, between his friends the Three Broomsticks just this afternoon, and finally escalating with during his conversation with Daphne...it was time to finally ask.

"_What_?" It was not the answer he had wanted to hear, but seeing the fear in her eyes propelled him further. She did not look disgusted by the thought of it, she did not look like she was going to hit him...she looked like she was afraid to answer. And that was better than what he had expected.

"Did you ever wonder if it's because I may fancy you?" He repeated slowly. "It'd be what most people would assume."

"Doesn't mean it's true," she responded a bit too quickly. "And no, I don't think it's because you fancy me."

"Hm," he moved away, giving her the chance to run away if she wanted to. He was pleased when she didn't – the first answer had been enough to keep him interested, but that she was staying for more nearly thrilled him. "Would you assault me again if I did? I'd like to think we're more mature now."

"You're drunk," she sneered.

"And you're wrong," he said, finally admitting it. Finally admitting after so long that he fancied her – it was a shock even to him. Sure, he had joked about it this term just to watch her squirm and he fed the stories to the _Prophet_ just to damn her brother...but the fact was never so real as it was now.

Draco Malfoy fancied Audrey Potter.

"You _are _drunk." She repeated, backing away slightly.

"Did I say that's why you're wrong?" he asked, feeling nearly overjoyed by admitting it _again_. He wouldn't be surprised if she noticed how close he was to smiling – but she seemed to panicked to care. "And maybe I _do _fancy you. You can't deny how strange it is: one moment I absolutely hate you and want to wring your neck, but the next..."

"The next?"

"The next I don't," it was the only way to describe it. The only way to explain how much he wanted to smother her, but kiss her. How much he wanted to be the one to mess that hair of hers, or make her blush red like so few could, or better, to make him say the same things back to him. "And for some reason, that moment lasts longer that the other. So, perhaps I _could _fancy you."

She was lost in her thoughts again, he could tell. She looked terrified of what she was thinking and even though he had not liked seeing her terrified near Montague, it was fantastic to see her so scared about this...because she was not scared of him, she was scared of herself. And that meant she felt exactly what _he _was feeling. It meant that she was worrying about the same things that he had feared for months.

"Potter," he began lowly, watching as she averted her eyes and took a step away.

"Don't..."

"What do you feel about me?" he couldn't believe how important this all suddenly seemed. When he had been arguing with Daphne, none of this had seemed possible and now the answer was right there in front of him: it was at the tip of her tongue, the edge of his fingertips; close enough to touch, to kiss...

"Please don't," she looked as if she were ready to run, or scream, or cry. It was not a look that comforted him as the other one did. That look told him that she was trying to deny everything...which was not what Daphne had promised him. She had promised that the thought would be implanted in her head and then it would grow into an admission. That was not happening.

"What do you feel for me, Potter?" he repeated, hoping for some different reaction to grow in this one's place. Hoping that she would suddenly be unable to resist the facts, even if it was by his lead. "Do you fancy me?"

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and large, nearly glimmering with tears. They looked more green like that – when she cried. He had never seen them so green, so vulnerable. She was afraid. Afraid of him? He couldn't tell. Maybe it was setting him back a few steps by making her tell him via the Veritaserum...but the chance would never come again. He knew that. _She _knew that, it was the very reason she was stalling.

"I don't know what I feel," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don't know."

There was a long moment where Draco couldn't say anything. It felt like something hot had stabbed him in the gut and his energy...no, all those emotions that had boiled together – the dread, the jealousy, the fury, the nervousness – felt like it was draining from him. Daphne had been wrong. Potter hadn't admitted anything to herself. There was nothing to admit. She had said she didn't feel the same way.

No. No she didn't, he realized slowly. Daphne was not wrong...but he was. Potter hadn't admitted _anything. _She hadn't admitted that she hated him, she hadn't screamed that he was wrong – she didn't know how she felt. She didn't know how to feel...

"Good," he finally breathed, after he had thought everything through and composed himself enough to speak again and straighten up. He looked down at her, noticing the look she gave him about being worried for his sanity.

"Good?" She repeated.

"You being unsure is not a 'no', Potter," he smirked proudly. And it wasn't a no. It may not have been a yes, yet, but being unsure was certainly not a no. Daphne still had time to be right. Time – time for that thought to spread and consume her as it had him...

"But-"

"Am I wrong?" He asked, trying to keep his smile away, just in case it frightened her more. "Are you sure you don't fancy me?"

"No," her voice sounded confused, as if she didn't understand the words that were coming out of her own mouth. Perhaps she didn't, thanks to the Veritaserum. "I'm not sure."

For now, that was all he needed to hear. Confusion was much more satisfying than answers at this point – having just been able to admit this himself, it would probably be a little too much to say that he fancied anyone. He wasn't used to fancying someone _organically. _Usually they were picked out for him, like clothes or textbooks – but this was real. This was natural.

He did wish that he could rush the process though – he didn't know how long Daphne's theory would take to work and he was already thinking about everything that it could entail. She had said it could take days, or weeks, or months...and he didn't really want to take that time. Particularly when his heart was already thrumming with excitement and she was right in front of him.

Then again, there was _one _thing that could speed the process.

"Good," he said again when he realized what he would do. He watched her expressions in fascination as he moved forward, feeling his heart pound against his ribs while he leaned closer and closer to her.

Audrey's eyes were as wide as dinner plates, her breath so shallow that he could barely hear anything besides the slight flutter to it. She was anxious, she was nervous – and he was more amazed, more ecstatic, when he watched her close her eyes and realized she was _accepting _it.

She was accepting the idea that he was going to kiss her. And he wanted to...he wanted to kiss her and make her fall against him and for him all at once – he'd managed it with others. He knew it was possible. All he had to do was show her what he could offer her, explain to her without words just what she really needed...

But if he did that, maybe things would go back to how they were. Audrey hadn't been kissed. Audrey was still a virgin. Audrey was still _unsure. _He didn't need to ruin things by overwhelming her and making her run away as he had been told that she would.

He waited there a moment longer, watching her expression: her red cheeks, her parted lips and somehow he managed to pull his eyes away from them. Instead, he closed his own and tried to pull himself away from her...but he couldn't. He had wanted this moment for months, for _years..._he couldn't just deny himself this after all his hard work.

For the second time that day, Draco Malfoy found himself compromising.

Instead of kissing her as he wanted to, he leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her temple. He didn't dare to do any more – no longer in worry for her, but over worry for himself. He wouldn't be able to analyze what was happening if he really kissed her, he wouldn't be able to gage her reactions because he would be too distracted. But with this, this he could still examine: he could hear her shaky release of breath, feel her body sag with disappointment.

The disappointment made him smile, realizing just how much he had won over her affections with the compromise – this did not overwhelm her. But it did not satisfy – it was the perfect mix of savory and sweet.

"Try to make up your mind quickly, won't you?"

The disappointment flashed over her features immediately as he pulled away and that in itself was almost as euphoric for him as a kiss at that moment would have been. But he refused to try more, he refused to push harder: the thought had been planted...now all he needed to do was wait.

And something told him that by the fact she kept her eyes closed, hoping he would change his mind...he wouldn't have to wait very long.

* * *

**Based off of my story** _Green Eyed Monster_.

**I do not own the Harry Potter universe or its characters. I do own Audrey Potter, her ridiculously vivid potion-making skills, and her wicked nicknames.**

**Thanks go out to** _Invincible Shadow_**_,_**_ Mischief and Magic_**_,_**_ xXMizz Alec VolturiXx_**_,_**_ Nicky-Maree_**_,_**_ Angel of the Night Watchers_**_, __and_**_ SwiftAlice _**for their reviews.**

**Enjoy the flashbacks and please review :)**


	7. June 9th, 1993

**June 9th, 1993**

Severus could hear the traitors talking, but was still too far away to hear what words were actually being said. He was sure that it was by luck that Potter's Invisibility Cloak had been laid face down on the ground below the immobilized Whomping Willow – but he could not help the genuine worry that seemed to make his heart beat a little more strongly. This cloak was as beloved to that boy as it had been to his father – for Potter to just leave it behind was a sign that something had happened. And who knew who knew what the circumstances beyond leaving it could have been; it may have been in the boy's interest to waltz towards danger, but it was not in the girl's. She was smarter than this – he had warned her what Black was capable of, he had warned her to stay away.

Then again, even if she didn't like danger, she quite enjoyed ignoring warnings.

"If you're going to tell them the story, get a move on, Remus. I've waited twelve years, I'm not going to wait much longer!" he could hear the madness in Black's voice. The tone had hardened over time but he sounded just as excited and urgent to cause trouble as ever – it made Snape grip his wand tighter. The fury was instantaneous – Lupin was there too, then? He knew – he _knew _that they had been in on it together! Dumbledore should have listened – you could never trust a werewolf.

"All right..." Lupin began speaking and Snape quickly stepped forward, slowly opening the Shrieking Shack's bedroom door and peering through the crack. When he saw that no one was paying attention to the swaying of the lifeless door, he took the moment to step closer to get a good look at the scene: he could see Granger, she looked terrified. Weasley looked to be injured, which hardly surprised him, and the Potters – ah yes, they were standing, boldly, in front of their friends.

Typical _heroes._

He noticed too late the rickety board that he had stepped on, just to get closer and check on the twin's condition – what a mistake. The creak of the floorboard immediately cut the werewolf off his speech and caused six of them turned to look at him – or rather, straight _through_ him. Still, he dared not move another inch. If he did, another floorboard could creak and they would know exactly where he was standing.

"No one there..." Lupin muttered as he walked toward the open door and examined the landing, where Snape had been just moments prior.

"This place is haunted!" Weasley exclaimed. He sounded terrified by the fact and were he to have known any better, Snape would have thought it was from the threat of the killer in his midst – but no, it was likely from the threat of ghosts.

"It's not," Lupin responded, looking around in confusion. "The Shrieking Shack was never haunted...the screams and howls the villagers used to hear were made by me."

Lupin took another step, dangerously close to where Severus stood. Had he not known better, he would have feared that Lupin would be able to smell him...but Lupin only pushed his hair from his face and continued on.

"That's where all of this starts – with my becoming a werewolf. None of this could have happened if I hadn't been bitter...and if I hadn't been so foolhardy..."

Circe, Potter's prized pet, moved to rub against the werewolf's leg as if to comfort him. It set Snape's nerves on edge at once – that cat was enough to convince the girl to throw away her instincts and trust someone; it had been a bad purchase on her part. Now it was putting it's trust in the werewolf – no doubt that the girl would, too.

"I as a very small boy when I received the bite. My parents tried everything, but in those days there was no cure. The potion that Professor Snape has been making for me is a very recent discovery," and how he wished it hadn't been discovered. Lupin would not have been here and let Black so close to the twins without that damned potion...then again, revenge could be very, very sweet if he get played his cards properly. "It makes me safe, you see. As long as I take it in the week, preceding the full moon, I keep my mind when I transform...I'm able to curl up in my office, a harmless wolf, and wait for the moon to wane again.

"Before the Wolfsbane Potion was discovered, however, I became a fully fledged monster once a month. It seemed impossible that I would be able to come to Hogwarts. Other parents weren't likely to want their children exposed to me.

"But then Dumbledore became Headmaster, and he was sympathetic. He said that as long as we took certain precautions, there was no reason I shouldn't come to school..." The werewolf sighed, looking directly to the twins, who looked so innocently back to him.

"So you came into the Shrieking Shack?" the girl asked quietly. "I knew it wasn't haunted – Malfoy tried to tell me it was, but-"

"I told you, months ago, that the Whomping Willow was planted the year I came to Hogwarts," he nodded, smiling a little at her rambling. That girl had always had to prove the Malfoy boy wrong...it was something Snape had noticed in a sadly familiar way to her very own mother and other men...other men who would later ruin her life. "The truth is that it was planted because I came to Hogwarts. This house, the tunnel that leads to it, they were built for my use. Once a month, I was smuggled out of the castle, into this place, to transform. The tree was placed at the tunnel mouth to stop anyone coming across me while I was dangerous."

A rat, one that was slightly familiar as Ron Weasley's, was writhing and making a lot of noise within the boy's hands. Snape moved slightly closer, ready to attack and wondering, idly, how much time he would have between disarming Lupin and attacking Black – he also couldn't help but wonder if the children were too close for that kind of action.

He didn't want them to get in the way of his vengeance, after all. He'd waited too long for a misfired curse.

"My transformations in those days were-were terrible. It is very painful to turn into a werewolf. I was separated from humans to bite, so I bit and scratched myself instead. The villagers heard the noise and the screaming and thought they were hearing particularly violent spirits. Dumbledore encouraged the rumor...even now, when the house has been silent for years, the villagers don't dare approach it...

"But apart from my transformations, I was happier than I had ever been in my life. For the first time ever, I had friends, three great friends. Sirius Black...Peter Pettigrew...and, of course, your father, Harry – James Potter."

Each of those men were the bane of Severus Snape's being. These were the very men who had ruined his childhood, his adolescence, and who had taken everything valuable in his life away from him – friends, power, _Lily_...

"Now, my three friends could hardly fail to notice that I disappeared once a month. I made up all sorts of stories. I told them my mother was ill, and that I had to go home to see her...I was terrified they would desert me the moment they found out what I was. But of course, they, like you, Hermione, worked out the truth...

"And they didn't desert me at all. Instead, they did something for me that would make my transformations not only bearable, but the best times of my life. They became Animagi."

"My dad too?" Potter – the boy – asked, looking astounded.

"Yes, indeed," said Lupin.

"But-" Potter – the girl – shook her head. Snape was disappointed that she was naive enough to give this plot any merit at all; she was smart enough to know when she was being lied to and tricked. "But – you can't just _become _Animagi, can you? I mean, it's a lot of work. And it's hard, really hard magic."

"It took them the best part of three years to work out how to do it," Lupin agreed with her. "Your father and Sirius here were the cleverest students in the school, and lucky they were, because the Animagus transformation can go horribly wrong – one reason the Ministry keeps a close watch on those attempting to do it. Peter needed all the help he could get from James and Sirius. Finally, in our fifth year, they managed it. They could each turn into a different animal at will."

"Really, they learned? Does that mean _we_ can learn?" Audrey asked excitedly, moving to pick up her kneazle and hold her to give her shaking hands something to do.

"But how did that help you?" asked the bushy-haired know-it-all.

"They couldn't keep me company as humans, so they kept me company as animals," Lupin explained. Snape sneered heavily at the memory knowing that this, if the only, part was true. "A werewolf is only a danger to people. They sneaked out of the castle every month under James's Invisibility Cloak. They transformed...Peter, as the smallest, could slip beneath the Willow's attacking branches and touch the knot that freezes it. They would then slip down the tunnel and join me. Under their influence, I became less dangerous. My body was still wolfish, but my mind seemed to become less so while I was with them."

"Hurry up, Remus," Black snarled from beside him, taking a step toward the Weasley boy with a vicious luck on his face. He looked ready to kill and Snape, no matter how much he hated Lupin, could not help but feel shocked that he was about to let this happen. Snape moved closer to Lupin, his wand trained on him as he tried to discover how they were going to attack these children – Black did not have a wand, so his best bet was to watch the werewolf's moves closely.

"I'm getting there, Sirius, I'm getting there...well, highly exciting possibilities were open to us now that we could all transform. Soon we were leaving the Shrieking Shack and roaming the school grounds and the village by night. Sirius and James transformed into such large animals, they were able to keep a werewolf in check. I doubt whether any Hogwarts students ever found out more about the Hogwarts grounds and Hogsmeade than we did... And that's how we came to write the Marauder's Map, and sign it with our nicknames. Sirius is Padfoot. Peter is Wormtail. James was Prongs."

"What sort of animal-" Potter – the girl – began, but the know-it-all cut her off. "That was still really dangerous! Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you'd given the others the slip, and bitten somebody?"

"A thought that still haunts me," Lupin sighed heavily, but Snape did not believe him for a second – this was all a farce. He wanted – _needed_ to attack them _now_. "And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless – carried away with our own cleverness.

"I sometimes felt guilty about betraying Dumbledore's trust, of course...he had admitted me to Hogwarts when no other headmaster would have done so, and he had no idea I was breaking the rules he had set down for my own and others' safety. He never knew I had led three fellow students into becoming Animagi illegally. But I always managed to forget my guilty feelings every time we sat down to plan our next month's adventure. And I haven't changed...

"All this year, I have been battling with myself, wondering whether I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus. But I didn't do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I'd betrayed his trust while I was at school, admitting that I'd led others along with me...and Dumbledore's trust has meant everything to me. He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am. And so I convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using dark arts he learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it...so, in a way, Snape's been right about me all along."

Of course he has.

"Snape?" For the first time Black looked away from the rat so that he could sneer out Severus' own name. The Potion's Master couldn't help but smirk to himself, knowing that the hatred between them was mutual and just as palpable as ever. "What's Snape got to do with it?"

"He's here, Sirius," Lupin sighed heavily. "He's teaching here as well. He's Audrey's Head of House."

"I'm a Slytherin," she elaborated, Snape was glad to see that she took pride when she announced it. "But you already knew that, I guess."

"I did," he said vaguely, narrowing his eyes on her face.

"He's my Potions Professor. He hates you both," she said with a frown, looking at them both with those eyes of hers – eyes much more calculating than Lily's had ever been. Like Lily, this girl always tried to find the good in people – but unlike Lily, she was still capable of seeing the bad. "I guess you knew that, too."

"Professor Snape was at school with us. He fought very hard against my appointment to the Defense Against the Dark Arts job," Lupin explained to her. Snape nearly rolled his eyes – he had done more than fight against it, he had vehemently refused to work alongside him – how he had been roped into _helping _the monster keep himself at bay was still beyond him. "He has been telling Dumbledore all year that I am not to be trusted. He has his reasons...you see, Sirius here played a trick on him which nearly killed him, a trick which involved me-"

Black made a derisive noise that made Snape's knuckles turn white against the hilt of his wand.

"It served him right," he sneered. "Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to...hoping he could get us expelled..."

The girl's eyes widened. "What do you mean 'sneaking around'? Do you mean – that you...on a full moon..."

"Severus was very interested in where I went every month." Lupin nodded slowly, addressing the children. The girl's eyes were now hard on both Black and Lupin – Severus could not help but notice the similarities of that glare to her mother ...he also could not help but notice just how nice it was to see that glare directed at someone that was not him. "We were in the same year, you know, and we – er – didn't like each other very much. He especially disliked James. Jealous, I think, of James's talent on the Quidditch field...we fought much like you and Draco Malfoy do."

"Draco Malfoy?" Black sneered. "Don't even give him your time of day."

"At least he hasn't been hacking up portraits to come and get us," The girl hissed out, making Severus smirk. "He's a git, but he hasn't lead people to get killed..."

"Actually..." Her twin began slowly.

"He hasn't!" She defended with a growl.

"That one time he did leave us to get eaten by Voldemort when he was feeding from the unicorn," her brother reminded. She rolled her eyes.

"Okay, yes, but him being a baby is not the same as him being cruel."

"Yes, not even Malfoy would have been as cruel as Sirius was that day," Lupin agreed with a frown to his old friend. "Snape had seen me crossing the grounds with Madam Pomfrey one evening as she led me toward the Whomping Willow to transform. Sirius thought it would be – er – amusing, to tell Snape all he had to do was prod the knot on the tree trunk with a long stick, and he'd be able to get in after me. Well, of course, Snape tried it...if he'd got as far as this house, he'd have met a fully grown werewolf – but your father, who'd heard what Sirius had done, went after Snape and pulled him back, at great risk to his life...Snape glimpsed me, though, at the end of the tunnel. He was forbidden by Dumbledore to tell anybody, but from that time on he knew what I was..."

"So that's why Snape doesn't like you," the boy realized slowly.

"He hates you because our Dad had to save him?" The girl asked. Snape could not understand why she seemed confused, but the boy shook his head and finished for her. "Or is it because he thought you were in on the joke?"

"That's right, Potter," Snape couldn't help but sneer from the wall behind Lupin.

Severus figured it was as good a time as any to reveal himself, now that his wand was trained on Lupin and Lupin would not be able to swivel around to attack him. Granger screamed when he appeared, Black leapt to his feet, the girl let out a loud gasp and took another step forward – Severus was sure to shake his head at her and watched, pleased, as she stopped mid-step.

"I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow," Snape explained, throwing the Invisibility Cloak aside while he kept his wand well trained on Lupin. "Very useful, Potter, I thank you..."

Snape vaguely wondered if the disturbed look on the girl's face was because she could tell of how victorious he felt – he had finally gotten Black and Lupin on their own. They were finally at _his _mercy.

"You're wondering, perhaps, how I knew you were here?" he asked. "I've just been to your office, Lupin. You forgot to take your potion tonight, so I took a gobletful along. And very lucky I did...lucky for me, I mean. Lying on your desk was a certain map. One glance at it told me all I needed to know. I saw you running along this passageway and out of sight."

"Severus-"

"I've told the headmaster again and again that you're helping your old friend Black into the castle, Lupin, and here's the proof. Not even I dreamed you would have the nerve to use this old place as your hideout-"

"He didn't-" Audrey began.

"Severus, you're making a mistake," Lupin agreed with urgency. "You haven't heard everything – I can explain – Sirius is not here to kill Harry or Audrey-"

"Two more for Azkaban tonight," he interrupted, smirking darkly as he thought of them behind bars...his vivid imagination even granted him the image of Dementors coming for them – it was a beautiful thought. "I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this. He was quite convinced you were harmless, you know, Lupin...a _tame_ werewolf-"

"You fool," said Lupin softly, making Severus sneer. How was he so calm? How could he be so nonplussed knowing that he was about to rot in prison. "Is a schoolboy grudge worth putting an innocent man back inside Azkaban?"

But Sirius Black was not innocent and with that knowledge, Snape hardly thought the incantation before thin cords burst from the tip of his wand and twisted around Lupin – his mouth, wrists, ankles...the sad excuse for a man lost his balance from the force and fell to the floor, covering himself in dust and dirt. With an animalistic growl that only surmised just how Black _was _an animal, the criminal rushed him.

"Give me a reason," Snape whispered as his wand honed right between Black's charcoal eyes. "Give me a reason to do it, and I swear I will."

"Snape, please!" The girl cried, sounding horribly like her mother as she did it. Sirius' eyes dared not leave Snape's but he could see the monster _wanting _to look at her – it made him sneer more.

"Not now, Potter..." he managed to hiss to her.

"You have to listen to him," she begged again. He could not take that tone – that tone that he remembered all too vividly...but she had argued just the opposite. She had begged him _not _to listen, _not _to do what he was told and ignore the men that were ordering them...he would listen to Lily's words now. Even if it meant ignoring her daughter's.

"Professor Snape," the know-it-all began carefully, "it wouldn't hurt to hear what they've got to say, w-would it?"

"Miss Granger, you are already facing suspension from this school," Snape spat, not even humouring her with a glance. "You, Weasley, Mr _and_ Miss Potter are out-of-bounds, in the company of a convicted murderer and a werewolf. For once in your life, hold your tongue."

"But if – if there was a mistake-"

"Keep quiet, you stupid girl!" Snape shouted, not daring to look away from his captive. He finally had the chance to get revenge for everything that was taken from him and this loud-mouth little brat was not going to take this from him.

"Snape," _her _voice begged again. "He's innocent-"

"He is not and I do not want to hear anymore on this, Potter," Snape hissed.

"You've never doubted me before," she argued. "Why don't you-"

"I can only imagine why," Black sneered, glaring right at Snape. "I can only imagine that he favours you, doesn't he, Audrey? I could have told that the minute I saw you..."

"DON'T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" Snape roared, unable to stop the sparks that spat from the end of his wand, nearly catching Black in the face. He wished they had.

"Snape," the girl's voice whispered again. "Snape, he didn't do it-"

"You know nothing, none of you," Snape hissed.

"He didn't! Circe wouldn't be able to be near him if he had and Circe has been leading me to him all year!" She disagreed, stomping her foot. "I trust him, he-"

"Then you are a fool," he spat, glowering at Black again. He felt furious that the man had tricked someone as foolhardy and trusting as this little girl – he should have known that she would fall for his ploy. But there was no need to worry, he convinced himself...not when Black's fate was now in _his _hands. "Vengeance is very sweet. How I hoped I would be the one to catch you..."

"The joke's on you again, Severus," Black snarled, looking as enraged as Snape felt. "As long as this boy brings his rat up to the castle, I'll come quietly..."

But Snape did not want Black to come quietly – nevertheless where he had been trying to get into the entire year. "Up to the castle? I don't think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the Dementors once we get out of the Willow. They'll be very pleased to see you, Black...pleased enough to give you a little kiss, I daresay...I-"

"You -you've got to hear me out," Black croaked, all colour drained from his face and fear replacing the rage behind his eyes. It was a stunning sight. "The rat – look at the rat-"

"Come on, all of you," Snape hissed, no longer able to think of anything but how much he wanted to watch the Dementors welcome Black home. He snapped his fingers, feeling immediately how the edges of the cords around Lupin flew into his hands. "I'll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the Dementors will have a kiss for him too-"

"No!" Snape finally looked away from Black, only to see that both Potters had crossed the room and were blocking the exit toward the tunnel. Just as they had blocked the access to their friends – trying to be _heroes _again.

It disgusted him, seeing them in that position – just as their parents had been. So ready to protect the people who would later betray them; so ready to lay themselves on the line for something they didn't even understand...

"Get out of the way, Potter, you're in enough trouble already," he hissed. "If I hadn't been here to save your skin-"

"Professor Lupin could have killed me about a hundred times this year," the boy threw his arms toward the werewolf held by Snape's hand. "I've been alone with him loads of times, having defense lessons against the Dementors. If he was helping Black, why didn't he just finish me off then?"

"Don't ask me to fathom the way a werewolf's mind works," he hissed in return. "Get out of the way, Potter."

"But I've been alone with Sirius Black!" the girl countered. Snape could hardly stop his face from falling – the image of what danger could have befallen that girl was as vivid as the image of what would become of Sirius Black. It made his stomach churn. "He's never hurt me once and I've been seeing him, alone, nearly every week!"

"Then consider yourself lucky," Snape hissed again. "Move, you two, or you _will _be expelled."

"You're pathetic," the boy sneered at him. It was painful to see so much distain in those eyes of his. "Just because they made a fool of you in school, you won't even listen-"

"SILENCE! I WILL NOT BE SPOKEN TO LIKE THAT!" Snape bellowed, feeling his anger get the best of him again. "Like father, like son, Potter! I have just saved your neck; you should be thanking me on bended knee! You would have been well served if he'd killed you! You'd have died like your father, too arrogant to believe you might be mistaken in Black – now get out of the way, or I will make you."

Neither Potter moved so much as their furious gazes.

"GET OUT OF THE WAY, POTTER!"

"No, Snape, you're arrogant! Leave him _alone!_" the girl screeched, stomping her foot for emphasis. Snape could hardly acknowledge how awful the look of disgust she was giving him felt before it happened: it was like a bomb had detonated as soon as her foot hit the ground. It was a blast of air or energy or something just as strong that threw Lupin – still held by his cords – farther into the middle of the Shrieking bedroom. Both Black and himself fell back four or five steps just from the harshness of the blow.

In the moment he had before looking back up, he saw that the boy had raised his wand, his eyes just as determined as his sister's were before he screamed a spell and everything around him disappeared.

* * *

Snape awoke to his head pounding and his heart racing. At first, he was not aware what was making his body react in such an obvious show of fear...not until he heard the screaming – it was Lily's scream. And there, in the distance, warding off a _cloud _of Dementors was a patronus of...of a deer?

"Lily?" he found himself asking, looking around for whoever had cast the strong and vivid Patronus which was running around and banishing the Dementors from around them. There was no one conscious around him – and most importantly, there was no Lily.

It caused unintelligible pain just to remember that there would never be Lily to save him, just as he had never been there to save her. That was a hopeless dream now; one that even the most horrible of nightmares could not duplicate and the sweetest of dreams could not delude him well enough...Lily was gone. Forever.

But still, even knowing she was gone the patronus continued to trot around and chase the Dementors away from them. Now that his vision was clearing, it was larger than Lily's patronus – but only just. From here, something looked different from it – but he was too far away to compare.

So if Lily had not cast the Patronus, who had?

Weasley was unconscious and grasping his leg – tears streaked down his face. Granger and Potter, the boy, had fainted from their exertion with their wands out. The girl had fainted over top of Black – who was also unconscious and on his back.

She was _protecting_ him.

His anger flared – _she_ had been the one to scream, not Lily, and she had injured herself to protect a man who wanted to kill her. The girl was as foolish as her mother had been: protecting a man who didn't deserve to be protected. Still, he took a moment to gather his bearings, watching to ensure that the Dementors had fled, before moving.

He conjured stretchers and gathered Weasley onto one first – the freckled boy was bleeding everywhere and looked considerably more pale than normal. He had no idea how long he had been unconscious so found it difficult to assess how much blood he had lost, but it looked like a lot. After he had put him on a stretcher, he put Granger on the next. He moved the girl off of Black next – but didn't put her on a stretcher. Instead, he couldn't help himself from waiting.

The Potters, who had tried so valiantly to defend the man who had gotten Lily murdered, who had tried to murder them...He could not tell if he was more disturbed, or more disgusted.

He put them on their stretchers next, trying hard to avoid looking at the girl's face – had that been her Patronus? Did she have a Patronus just like her mother...and himself?

After securing Black to the last stretcher and making sure to both bind and gag him, he levitated the group of them towards the castle. Lupin was gone and as the moon had risen, he could only imagine where he could be hiding – it made him keep his wand held out in front of him. Black had gotten those scratches across his face somehow...Snape could only hope he was stricken with the curse, as well.

When he finally made it back up to the castle, it was closer to daylight than nightfall. He lifted his wand, keeping his mind focused on both the levitation of the stretchers and his happiest thought of the moment – _Sirius Black will be as soulless as he has always seemed – _before he waved his wand.

"_Black has been captured, children were attacked. Contact the Ministry, come to the infirmary._"

After his silvery doe sped towards Dumbledore's office with his message, he continued toward the hospital wing. His legs felt weak, he was unsure if it was from the attack on him or the overall attack from the Dementors, but he would avoid mentioning it until Black was dealt with. He would not rest until he was put down like a dog...

Madame Pomfrey was out the doors before he even entered. "Dementor attacks! Albus warned me – is it true? Is Sirius Black-"

"Here," Snape confirmed. "Has he contacted the Minister?"

"Of course," she bustled, coming to help him with the stretchers and levitating them each to a separate bed. "Why were students out in the – the twins, of course! – and what happened to Mr Weasley? Surely not Professor Lupin..."

"No, this is not a werewolf's bite," Snape answered simply, watching as she put them into their own beds. "He was attacked before Lupin turned – hello Headmaster, Minister."

With timing more perfect than could be described, both Albus Dumbledore and Cornelius Fudge walked through the doors. They were trailed by a handful of Aurors that stayed hovering outside the large, oak doors as the Minister for Magic paused in his tracks at the sight before him.

"Black!" he gasped. "It's true – you've caught him, Snape!"

"Yes, Minister," he nodded, unable to hold back his pride from the smile that marred his features. "I suggest that you detain him properly before he comes to – he has a way of escaping punishment."

"Yes, yes of course-" the Minister stuttered, moving forward to look at Black before snapping his fingers at the Aurors behind him. Poppy Pomfrey nearly complained as they took him on the stretcher that Snape had already conjured and headed out of the Hospital Wing without her able to check his vitals.

"Do you need looking after, Severus?" Poppy asked, looking at him with a very calculating glare.

"I'm fine, Poppy," he said at once. "Nothing more than a bump on the head."

"Then you can leave my wing," she said firmly. "I don't want you to wake up my patients."

"What happened to those patients...is that – is that Harry Potter? And is that-"

"His sister and his friends? Yes," Snape looked over to them, hardly able to avoid Poppy's glare. "They were all present for everything – including the attack on myself."

"Terrible! Tell me everything that happened, Snape."

"Shall we tell the story outside of Poppy's wing?" Albus asked pleasantly. "I daresay she will-"

"Yes, now out!" Poppy snapped, overhearing and leering at them all. "My patients will need their rest, not to be giddy from your storytelling!"

"Madam Pomfrey, it's hardly storytelling-" the Minister complained.

"Whether true or false," she held up her hand to stop him. "Storytelling and healing to not go hand in hand. Out of my wing!"

Walking out of the wing, they situated themselves just outside the door. It seemed that Dumbledore did not want to move away from his students and quite honestly, Snape was looking for statuses of their health as well – he did not know what had happened to them after he had been attacked and he couldn't help but fear for...for _her _life.

"Severus," Cornelius began again. "Please, tell me everything."

"I was made aware that one of our professors was missing earlier on in the evening," Snape began, giving a cool glare to Dumbledore, "when he missed his dosage of Wolfsbane potion-"

"Wolfsbane-" Fudge stuttered. "A werewolf? You have a werewolf on your staff, Dumbledore!"

"A responsible werewolf who was no danger to the students, Cornelius," Dumbledore assured him without so much as batting an eye. "Proper precautions were taken that I'm sure you will find were all up to Ministry standard. Please, Severus, continue your tale."

"After following Professor Lupin," he could not help the urge to let the Minister know exactly who the monster was. "I was made aware that one of the secret passages leading from Hogwarts down towards Hogsmeade had been used. Following this, I was able to catch both the werewolf and Black off guard."

"Why was Professor Lupin with Black in the first place?" Fudge asked, "had he cornered him?"

"I believe he was working with him-" Snape began only to be cut off by Dumbledore.

"I'm sorry, Severus, but your facts have been skewed," Dumbledore raised a hand to interrupt. "One of the many precautions I have taken to ensure the safety of my students is containing Remus Lupin within the Shrieking Shack, just outside of Hogsmeade, while he is transformed. He knew he had missed his nightly dose of Wolfsbane potion and confronted me about headed there before he transformed."

Severus could feel his face turning red. Dumbledore was trying to save Lupin – and had quite a convincing story, by the look on Fudge's face. Still...he could not save all of Potter's little friends...

"This may be true, but I saw him coercing with Black – I noticed then that the Potter's, Mr Weasley, and Miss Granger were present and moved quickly to apprehend both men. I thought I'd had them both detained when I was attacked..." It was humiliating, admitting that he had been caught off guard, but he couldn't bring himself to admit that it was the girl who had done it. She shouldn't have gotten in trouble for her emotions being out of hand – the boy, on the other hand, had attacked him out of cold blood. He would be punished later – when Black was a vegetable.

"When I woke, it was to dozens of Dementors being driven away. I do not know the cause. Professor Lupin had disappeared into the forest while Black and the students all lay unconscious from the Dementor's influence-"

"Oh dear," Fudge took off his bowler hat and rang it in his hands. "I am quite sorry, my boy, those Dementors were – well, if they were after Black they did as they were told, but-"

"They were as close to students as they were to Sirius Black, Cornelius," Dumbledore voiced sternly. "I trust now that you have found your man, they will be removed from my school?"

"There seems no need for them now-"

"Can I take your word?" Dumbledore asked politely. Fudge looked confused for a moment before nodding fervently.

"Yes, yes, of course – they will be removed at once. After the Kiss is administered, of course – I think that's the only proper punishment, don't you?"

"Of course, Minister," Snape said, nearly too eagerly. "I think it is perfectly fitting."

"Yes, yes – the Dementors Kiss...nasty business. I hate having part in it," the Minister admitted.

"On that note, I shall go inform the Aurors of your decision, shall I?" Dumbledore asked, his blue eyes twinkling madly. Snape almost wanted to tell the Minister 'no'; warn the Minister that Dumbledore was not on their side when it came to the innocence of certain individuals...but he did not speak fast enough.

"Oh, yes, if you please, Dumbledore," Cornelius bobbed his head expressively. "I would like to speak to Snape a bit longer – make sure he is properly noted for his role today!"

"Of course, he deserves the highest standings," Dumbledore praised. Snape couldn't help but let his lips quirk up – it was nice to get some recognition...even if he was suspicious of Dumbledore's motives. And with another nod – which looked far closer to a bow – Dumbledore walked off towards Black's tomb.

"You were saying, Severus? They were all unconscious?"

"Yes. In that time, I apprehended Black again and levitated each of them back to the school. You came not long after – but who knows how long they were with Black before I had gotten there? Anything could have happened in the time I was absent." He couldn't help but growl the last – wondering just how Black had convinced someone as intelligent as Potter – the girl, of course – to believe in his story. She was a better judge of character than that...he couldn't believe that she wouldn't see through his lies.

"Shocking business – shocking," the Minister agreed, wringing his hat again. "Miracle none of them died; never heard the like...by thunder, it was lucky you were there, Snape..."

"Thank you, Minister," he tried to sound humble...he was unsure if it worked.

"Order of Merlin, Second Class, I'd say. First Class, if I can wangle it!" Snape could hardly fight back his smirk.

"Thank you very much indeed, Minister." He bowed his head slightly, Fudge seemed to watch where his hair had moved.

"Nasty cut you've got there..." he pointed to Snape's forehead and he took a moment to press his hand to his forehead and spot that there was a bit of blood still coming from a cut there. He would have to get Poppy to look at it after all this was finished. "Black's work, I suppose?"

"As a matter of fact, it was Weasley, Granger, and the Potters, Minister..."

"No!" He gasped, looking through the crack in the door and observing the students that Poppy was still hovering over.

"Black had bewitched them, I saw it immediately," he said at once, watching as the Minister's eyes narrowed on the redheaded girl that was still unconscious in the farthest bed. He couldn't help but feel protective of her – it was not her fault that her emotions had gotten out of hand...her brother, however... "A Confundus Charm, to judge by their behavior. They seemed to think there was a possibility he was innocent. They weren't responsible for their actions. On the other hand, their interference might have permitted Black to escape...they obviously thought they were going to catch Black single-handedly. The Gryffindors have gotten away with a great deal before now...I'm afraid it's given them a rather high opinion of themselves... and of course Potter, the boy, has always been allowed an extraordinary amount of license by the headmaster-"

"Ah, well, Snape – Harry Potter, you know – we've all got a bit of a blind spot where he's concerned."

"And yet – is it good for him to be given so much special treatment? Personally, I try and treat him like any other student...he behaves more so in my class because of it. His sister, who is treated by everyone with no such leniency is a model student by most of her peers. Any other student would be suspended – at the very least – for leading their friends into such danger. Consider, Minister...against all school rules – after all the precautions put in place for he and the girl's specific protection...out-of-bounds, at night, consorting with a werewolf and a murderer...and I have reason to believe he has been visiting Hogsmeade illegally too..."

"And the girl?"

"The girl has not been so insubordinate. She acts out – a curse I'm sure comes from the mercy _he_ is shown – but she is, as said, a model student."

"Well, well...we shall see, Snape, we shall see," The Minister nodded to himself, looking through the doors again and narrowing his eyes. "The boy has undoubtedly been foolish..."

"He is entitled, Minister. It's a plague upon men," Snape explained, making the Minister nod and hum aloud.

"Yes...still, what amazes me most is the behavior of the Dementors...you've really no idea what made them retreat, Snape?" He didn't want to tell Fudge that he knew the specific patronus he had seen – it had driven the Dementors away but it could have been any animal...perhaps he had only been seeing what he had wanted to see – and he was not about to explain that what he had wanted to see was Lily Evans come to his rescue. The Dementors had made him think of her in his unconscious state as well, he may have been hallucinating...

"No, Minister...by the time I had come 'round they were heading back to their positions at the entrances..." he looked out the window at his side, watching the Dementors hovering over the grounds.

"Extraordinary. And yet Black, and Harry, and Audrey-"

"All unconscious by the time I reached them," he made sure not to explain just how much the girl had tried to help save Black from the Dementors. It would do no good for her later. "I bound and gagged Black, naturally, conjured stretchers, and brought them all straight back to the castle."

"Well done, Snape, well done," The Minister nodded. "And to think – Potter went after _him! _Did he not realize just how dangerous Black was?"

"Undoubtedly," Snape sneered. "He thinks himself much more powerful than he is. The girl has been warning him off the idea for weeks."

"You mean this was premeditated?"

"I have no doubts," Snape sneered lightly, trying not to seem as annoyed by this as he was. "He brings his friends on all his little adventures with him."

"Fascinating," Fudge muttered. "Perhaps he is not as val-"

"_WHAT_?"

The scream had come from the Hospital Wing and interrupted whatever magnificent insult Fudge was about to say about the boy he so hated. In the room, both Granger and that very boy were trying to get out of their beds – Snape immediately noted that his sister was still unconscious and his friend still looked ill.

Both Fudge and Snape stepped in the Hospital Wing as they watched both patients fight to get out of their beds against Poppy's will.

"Harry, Harry, what's this?" Fudge frowned, looking at him a little less jubilantly than he normally did. Snape sincerely hoped it stayed that way. "You should be in bed – has he had any chocolate?"

"Minister, listen!" Potter rushed quickly. "Sirius Black's innocent, Peter Pettigrew faked his own death! We saw him tonight! You can't let the Dementors do that thing to Sirius, he's-"

"Harry, Harry," he shook his head and spoke in a happy, calm voice. "You're very confused, you've been through a dreadful ordeal...lie back down, now, we've got everything under control."

"YOU HAVEN'T!" The boy yelled. "YOU'VE GOT THE WRONG MAN!"

"Minister, listen, please," Granger rushed as she finally got alongside her friend. "I saw him too. It was Ron's rat, he's an Animagus – Pettigrew, I mean – and he-"

"You see, Minister?" Snape interrupted with a sneer. "Confunded, both of them...Black's done a very good job on them..."

"WE'RE NOT CONFUNDED!"

Snape's sneer fully turned to Potter at that moment – Lily's eyes clashed against his own. It was hard to stare him down...it was always hard, but today it was a little more satisfying. He had gotten his sister in danger again and whenever he put the girl in danger, it was easy for Snape to feed his fury.

"Minister! Professor!" Madam Pomfrey huffed, storming towards both he and Fudge angrily. "I must insist that you leave. Potter is my patient, and he should not be distressed!"

"I'm not distressed, I'm trying to tell them what happened!" The boy bellowed. "If they'd just listen-"

Poppy took a large chunk of the chocolate in her hands and harshly shoved it into the boy's mouth. Snape nearly smirked while he gagged on it and tried to resist as the nurse steered him back toward his bed. Over her shoulder, she spoke to the men.

"Now, please, Minister, these children need care. Please leave."

"Yes, yes, of course," Fudge nodded, playing with his bowling hat. He was just about to turn around when the door opened again – Dumbledore had returned.

"Professor Dumbledore, Sirius Black-" Potter began again. Snape wanted to hex him into silence, but was too distracted to do anything more than consider it when he realized that Dumbledore was actually seeming to listen to his pleas.

"For heaven's sake!" Madam Pomfrey cried. "Is this a hospital wing or not? Headmaster, I must insist-"

"My apologies, Poppy, but I need a word with Mr. Potter and Miss Granger," Dumbledore explained calmly. Snape tried to catch the old wizard's eye – to tell him that _he _could explain everything that had happened – but the Headmaster did not meet his glance. "I have just been talking to Sirius Black-"

Snape felt his fury boil. Of course he had – and now, Snape was no longer necessary to him. Snape's bravery, his fight and protection for these students meant so little it didn't even need to be acknowledged_... _"I suppose he's told you the same fairy tale he's planted in Potter's mind? Something about a rat, and Pettigrew being alive-"

"That, indeed, is Black's story," Dumbledore nodded, looking at Snape evenly. He did not seem sorrowful at all, but determined. Snape felt his face begin to redden in his frustration.

"And does my evidence count for nothing?" he snarled. "Peter Pettigrew was not in the Shrieking Shack, nor did I see any sign of him on the grounds."

"That was because you were knocked out, Professor!" The know-it-all cried desperately. "You didn't arrive in time to hear..."

"Miss Granger, HOLD YOUR TONGUE!" Snape bellowed, glaring at her in a way that made her sit back down on her bed and look helplessly toward the headmaster. Good.

"Now, Snape," Fudge began soothingly, "the young lady is disturbed in her mind, we must make allowances-"

"I would like to speak to Harry and Hermione alone," Dumbledore repeated strongly. "Cornelius, Severus, Poppy – please leave us."

"Headmaster!" Poppy gasped, looking outraged at being asked to leave her own duty. "They need treatment, they need rest-"

"This cannot wait," said Dumbledore. "I must insist."

He was planning something – Dumbledore was _always _planning something – and it infuriated him that for once, he was not in on the end-goal. In fact, he was vehemently against it if it had anything to do with whatever talks he had just had with Sirius Black. Snape could feel his fury mounting, he could feel the blood rushing from his face as he realized that he had to act quickly or this victory would be stripped from him...

"The Dementors should have arrived by now," Fudge thought aloud as he examined his old pocket watch. "I'll go and meet them. Dumbledore, I'll see you upstairs."

Dumbledore nodded to him but showed no other sign of listening. Snape, knowing something was about to go disastrously wrong if Dumbledore was not willing to speak to these three in front of him, could not help but feel disastrously betrayed.

"You surely don't believe a word of Black's story?" Snape whispered, his eyes fixed on Dumbledore's face – he could not make himself sneer, for beneath his rage he was actually concerned...Dumbledore never believed false stories. He only believed true ones. Snape, himself, was the truth of that.

"I wish to speak to Harry and Hermione alone," was all the headmaster would repeat.

"Sirius Black showed he was capable of murder at the age of sixteen," he breathed, taking a step forward to show his emphasis. "You haven't forgotten that, Headmaster? You haven't forgotten that he once tried to kill me?"

"My memory is as good as it ever was, Severus," Dumbledore nodded quietly to himself. Dumbledore looked almost ashamed _for _Black...and this only fuelled Severus Snape's anger more.

He was going to get to that tower and he would watch as the Dementors feasted on what little humanity Black had ever had...

"Is everything alright, Snape?" Fudge asked nervously as he watched the anger seeping through the Potion Master's guarded expression.

"Of course, Minister. We have finally gotten Sirius Black – everything is as it should be. I can only hope Dumbledore's not going to make difficulties," he muttered, noting that Fudge nodded himself. "The Kiss will be performed immediately?"

"As soon as Macnair returns with the Dementors," Snape couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief while his chest constricted with the excitement of it all – Black would finally be punished for the abomination to wizard kind that he was. "This whole Black affair has been highly embarrassing. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to informing the _Daily Prophet_ that we've got him at last... I daresay they'll want to interview you, Snape... and once young Harry's back in his right mind, I expect he'll want to tell the _Prophet_ exactly how you saved him..."

He wasn't so sure of that, but this was no time to think of details such as that. If they really were Confunded, which he doubted but couldn't help but hope, perhaps Audrey Potter would give that interview for her brother. As unlikely as that was, it was the only probable option.

As they reached the corridor leading to where Sirius Black was being kept, Kingsley Shacklebolt – one of the Ministry's most familiar Aurors – fell into step with him.

"All has been quiet, Minister," he informed. "Macnair is on hand with the Dementors."

"All is well, then," Fudge nodded to himself, straightening his bowler hat. "I assume you want to stay, Snape? Witness how you have saved the lives of so many future victims?"

"I feel obligated to," Snape smirked to himself, trying to seem somber. "The Dementors Kiss is a frightening affair, however, I would like to see him pay for his crimes."

"Yes, yes, he certainly will," Fudge agreed with a smile. "If we hurry, we may just be able to make this morning's copy of the _Prophet_ with the story – yes, that will cheer everyone's spirits. Where did you take him, Kingsley?"

"This tower, here," Kingsley pointed to the Astronomy tower, just to the left. A few moments later they were climbing up the steps, Snape was almost buzzing with anticipation – were he alone, he would have been jumping them three or four at a time. Instead, he kept pace with the Minister...only to keep himself calm. He was excited to see Black punished, but surpassing his excitement was the worry of whatever it was that Dumbledore was planning...and he was even _more _worried why on earthit would involve _Potter..._

At the top of the tower, the door was locked to get into the Astronomy classroom.

"Kingsley," Fudge ordered. Removing the lock on the door and having his wand at the ready, Kingsley opened the door and Snape moved in front of the Minister to get a better look at the man he had doomed to a fate so much worse than death...

"What?" Kingsley gasped, walking into the room with his wand still held high. At his cry, Fudge and Snape immediately took out their wands and entered the room, Snape's eyes wide and the grip on his wand as tight as elastic.

Sirius Black was _gone._

"Where is he, Shacklebolt?" Snape hissed, his eyes raking every inch of the tower as his heart began to thud, releasing venom through his bloodstream. "SHACKLEBOLT!"

"I don't know! The other's have not seen any movement," he confirmed, sounding frustrated and dumbfounded. "He should be here!"

"He's not, though," Fudge panicked. "He's escaped us _again_!"

"But how-" the Auror began.

"What's this, no Sirius Black?" Dumbledore asked, walking up behind them and investigating the scene. "Are you sure you have the proper tower?"

"Of course we are," Fudge frowned. "He's not here, Dumbledore! He's escaped again!"

"Quite frightening," he said calmly, not sounding at all perturbed – it made the venom in Severus' blood boil. "This is quite a loss – the Dementors were already on hand."

"How did this happen?" Fudge asked, looking around to all of the men in the room.

And Snape, knowing the exact answer – having already seen the answer in Dumbledore's twinkling eyes – could only respond with a roar of rage. It shook the room around them and had the Minister for Magic asking him to quiet himself.

"IT – WAS – POTTER!" He raged, leaving the Aurors to investigate the empty tower as he stormed down the stairs and back towards the infirmary.

"Severus, Potter was down in the Hospital Wing, what do you think he had to do with it?"

"It was him! He's the only one who would have even _cared _to do anything!"

"I locked them in there myself, Severus," Dumbledore argued evenly. "Poppy will attest to that."

"Then he got out!"

"No, no," The Minister began again. "He must have Disapparated, Severus. We should have left somebody in the room with him. When this gets out-"

"HE DIDN'T DISAPPARATE!" Snape roared, picking up speed as he saw the Hospital Wing doors before him – he wanted to burst them down with the rage he was feeling. "YOU CAN'T APPARATE OR DISAPPARATE INSIDE THIS CASTLE! THIS – HAS – SOMETHING – TO – DO – WITH – POTTER!"

"Severus, be reasonable – Harry has been locked up in the infirm-"

Severus raised his wand and using the most violent curse he could think of, he blew the locks clean off the doors of the hospital wing, tossing the doors wide open. Potter was awake and in bed, covered in awkward chunks of chocolate. Granger was also awake in her bed – Weasley was still unconscious but the other Potter was awake and she looked absolutely petrified when she saw the look on his face. He must have looked murderous – he certainly _felt _it.

"OUT WITH IT, POTTER!" Snape bellowed. "WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"Professor Snape!" Poppy gasped, moving closer to the boy out of instinct. "Control yourself!"

"See here, Snape, be reasonable," Fudge begged. "This door's been locked, we just saw-"

"THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!" he howled, pointing at Potter and his bushy-haired friend. He was so furious he couldn't hear how ridiculous he sounded and even if he could, he would not have cared. Everything he had hoped for, for so many years, was so close – was in his grasp – and it had just been taken from between his fingers.

"Calm down, man!" Fudge ordered. "You're talking nonsense!"

"YOU DON'T KNOW POTTER!" shrieked Snape. "HE DID IT, I KNOW HE DID IT-"

"That will do, Severus," said Dumbledore steadily, placing his hand on Severus' raised wand arm and lowering it with a witheringly calm gaze. "Think about what you are saying. This door has been locked since I left the ward ten minutes ago. Madam Pomfrey, have these students left their beds?"

"Of course not!" the nurse said, bristling defensively. "I would have heard them!"

"I woke up just when the doors were closed by Dumbledore and Harry was explaining everything that's going on..." the Potter girl said in an impression far too believable of her mother. She looked at her brother, hardly able to hide her father's smirk, before she asked, "has something gone wrong with the Dementors Kiss?"

"Well, there you have it, Severus," Dumbledore answered calmly. "Unless you are suggesting that Harry and Hermione are able to be in two places at once, I'm afraid I don't see any point in troubling them further."

Snape, understanding just how overruled he had been, could not see anything else but red. The Potter girl looked at him briefly before she ducked away from the fury in his glare, just as her mother had so many years before and the boy, he held the glare boldly – _proudly _even. And then, disgustingly, the boy _smiled_...just as his father would have.

Severus Snape would never be rid of them. So yes, it _was _all Potter's fault...an entire generation after he had already died.

* * *

**Based off of my story** _Green Eyed Monster_**.**

**I do not own the Harry Potter universe or its characters. I do own** Audrey Potter**, her ridiculously vivid potion-making skills, and her wicked nicknames.**

**Thanks go out to** _Angel of the Night Watchers__**,**__ incitanemxx__**,**__ xXMizz Alec VolturiXx__**,**__ Mischief and Magic__**,**__ SwiftAlice__**, and**__ Lizzy B _**for their reviews.**

**Enjoy the flashbacks and please review :)**


End file.
